Closer
by purefoysgirl
Summary: My take on Yumichika's past and how he came to be stuck to Ikkau's side like glue. They start out young, people, so don't expect juicy stuff until later on, okay? Rated for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

'_I have to get further_,' the boy thought, slipping furtively through the tree-line along the road. He knew he'd be missed before too long, they wouldn't be fooled forever by his plea of a migraine and his taking to his bed. So he _had_ to keep moving, or else he'd find himself married without a chance to protest.

Marriage hadn't been a possible problem until just a few short days ago. Kanesuke had, up until that point, been training to join the Stealth Force, like any spare son of the Ichigawa family. It had been his destiny, his accepted fate, and one he looked forward to due to its beauty. His elder brother would inherit the tedious duty of running their family, while Kanesuke would follow in the footsteps of his other elder brothers and become a commander in the Executive Militia. It had all been decided, and he'd been training all of his life for it, just to be sure that he wouldn't fail the entrance tests, though he doubted anyone as perfect as himself would do anything so common as _fail_. Anything at all would be better than remaining in the manor under his father's crushing thumb - Ichigawa Daichi ruled his house with an iron fist and Kanesuke's raw back could attest to that.

Yesterday, his father and eldest brother had required his presence for tea, and Kanesuke's life had taken a startling turn for the worse, a turn that had resulted in his being caned within an inch of his life and told he _would _obey.

"_You will marry the youngest daughter of the Kusunoki. The sudden illness of her elder brother leaves the lines of inheritance at question and they request our support. We will tie our families together more tightly and solidify our position as we extend our landholdings. You will be a petty lord if he dies, Kanesuke - be grateful, it is more than you were intended to have_."

Be grateful.

Be _grateful_?!

Kanesuke was many, many things, but doubtful of his own worth was not one of them, and there was no possible way that he would ever allow his own status to be sullied by marrying outside of his own level. She might be a petty princess standing to gain a small holding, but Kanesuke was a young son of a great house. Marrying her would be lowering himself and his father knew it, though his greed for the Kusunoki lands kept him from worrying. Eldest Brother was not pleased by the prospect, but until he was head of their Clan it was not something he could express. Perhaps they were high enough that lowering themselves just a little would not affect their overall status, but at any rate Kanesuke was not about to go along with it. Besides, he'd seen the girl a time or two and she was unutterably hopeless, both fashion-wise and in looks. His outraged outburst to that effect had done nothing to sway his severe, strict father. Daichi had promptly had the head servant strip him to the waist and cane him before the entire staff, humiliating him for his disobedience. Kanesuke, though well used to the casual violence of his household, had been hurt, frightened, and furious enough that he'd retreated to his room under the plea of a migraine - never once indicating that the wounds pained him - and in a fit of childish fury he'd decided that he'd much rather die by his father's hand than marry.

And so here he was, slinking along the road like a derelict with nothing but a sack of belongings tied on his raw back and his sword through his _obi_. He could survive, heavens knew - though hunger was always a worrisome problem - but he was driven by nothing more than the desperate desire to get away from that awful house, that awful situation, and those awful people who were trying to stain his honor with an ugly marriage.

He was reaching the outskirts of the noble lands, where the fields were untended and the roads were ragged. They would never dream that he would come to such a dirty, horrible place and he was banking on that. Under normal circumstances he'd not have even looked out of his palanquin at such scenery, but now it was a welcome sight. The further he went, the better his chances were; the rest depended on his father's determination and the resolve of his other brothers. Failing to get Kanesuke - who was handily within the manor - he would doubtlessly recall one of his other sons to marry that unfortunate girl, and good luck to them.

Because it wouldn't be Kanesuke, thank you very much!

He spent a miserable night in the meager shelter of a shed, sharing the space with a bony cow and a rather disgruntled pig. Luckily, there was space enough in the feed bin for him to lay without getting terribly dirty, and he was careful to pack away his beautiful kimono so as not to soil it. He wasn't sure where he was going or what he'd do when he got there, but Ichigawa Kanesuke wasn't about to show up looking like a vagabond, thank you very much!

It started to rain as he reached the first little town. He recognized it from his various trips and realized with dismay that he wasn't nearly as far as he thought he was. He was going to have to push much further into the more unruly districts if he had any hopes of outdistancing his father. Not that the man would be worried for his safety, merely furious that his youngest son would dare to disobey him. Kanesuke shuddered to think of what might befall him if he ever ended up in his father's hands again - being caned in front of the servants would seem like paradise in comparison, and his father always seemed to know which wound to rub salt into. Kanesuke supposed that a long life of cruel coldness could do that to a man, he only hoped that he wouldn't turn out like his father...

It took another day to penetrate the outer sectors of Soul Society to where he thought he might be, nominally, safe. Safe seemed relative, however, when he realized just _how_ bad the higher numbered areas were. Long gone was even the semblance of civility - filth caked everything, and the people were both mean-eyed and cruel. Most of them stared at him as if they had no idea what he was, but didn't bother him. It may have been the sword he carried, or the impression that he was someone important who had strayed far, _far _from course. Yet in the ugliest district yet, he was immediately set upon by a man who seemed intent on working mischief on him. It was only thanks to his training that he was able to fend him off, his form suffering from the painful, untreated stripes on his back. No one seemed inclined to offer any assistance despite his not needing it, which galled him. He had to quietly reassure himself that they had no idea who he was, or else they would have fallen all over themselves to assist. _Surely_?

Thus preoccupied, he swept his way into the next district, only vaguely aware of the people staring at him.

"Hey, you! Come here, lemme talk to you!"

"_Excuse_ me?" Kanesuke asked, hoping the man would take the hint and leave him alone. He wasn't too keen on meeting anyone in this district, ugly as it was. He thought he was somewhere in the thirties, and already it was horrid enough to deter him from moving into the higher districts. If thirty looked so ugly, what on earth would eighty look like? Kanesuke shuddered to think!

"You heard me, girl, come here!"

He really was an ugly man, missing most of his teeth, his skin marked by pox. The scraggly group with him didn't look any better, being feral somehow, like they didn't know what civilization was, let alone how to behave.

"I will _not_!" Kanesuke informed him, not even bothering to correct the gender. Honestly, these people must be blind as well as poor and stupid. "Now, tell me where the nearest inn is. I'm tired."

That made them laugh for some reason, trading amused glances with each other as if Kanesuke had made some kind of joke.

"Tired? Why, you can sleep right here in the alley," the man offered, gesturing at the offal and refuse around them.

"_That_ is absolutely disgusting and I would appreciate you not mentioning it again," Kanesuke said, his nose wrinkling. "Now, excuse me. Why are so many insistent people getting in my way today?"

The man stared at him balefully, and said in a low, growling voice, "Kill her."

Kanesuke sighed. "Again?" He was honestly getting tired of this. As the men lunged, he started to draw his sword, but paused when all three went flying away from him.

"Hey."

"Eh?" Kanesuke blinked, wondering where on earth the boy before him had come from. Not from behind him, surely, but somehow he was in front of Kanesuke, rangy and slim in his short summer _yukata_, his bare feet planted firmly in the muddy ground and his bald head catching the light. He glanced over one shoulder at Kanesuke, tapping a sheathed sword restlessly against his shoulder. Kanesuke was surprised to see that he had dark grey eyes, because he'd never in his life seen anyone with grey eyes at all, let alone ones that were almost black. Even more exotic was the cat-like shape of them, tilted and oddly lovely despite his fierce expression.

"Hold on a minute," the boy said, and proceeded to pound the three men with his sheathed sword.

"I was doing fine!" Kanesuke called, worried that this boy might be another miscreant. He certainly fought like one - no finesse, just brute strength that was surprising to see in a boy who wasn't yet grown. He was so busy watching this newcomer, and maybe feeling the tiniest bit envious of how unrestrained he was, that he failed to sense someone coming up behind him. He shrieked with surprise and shocked pain whenever sore-ridden arms grappled hold of him and tried to bear him to the ground. "Hey! _Get off me_!"

He aimed an elbow back in the vicinity of a face and got a satisfying crunch followed by a howl of pain.

"Don't you _dare_ get blood on my kimono!" Kanesuke hissed, struggling not to let his precious clothing drag in the mud. He was on a relatively dry spot, but grit his teeth all the same not to land on his face. "Get _off_, I said!"

He heard a raspy howl and looked up in time to see that bald boy barreling at them, and jerked sideways to get out of the way as the boy kicked his assailant in the face. The arms went limp around him and Kanesuke tumbled away, grimacing as he nearly landed in a puddle.

"What the hell?!"

The youth's outraged voice was loud and raspy, matching the rather irritated, shocked look on his face. He scowled down at Kanesuke with one fist propped on his hip and his sword balanced on his right shoulder.

"_Hey_! You're not a _girl_!"

"Of _course _I'm not! How rude!" Kanesuke snapped, brushing debris from his kimono and straightening his hair. "Why would you even think such a thing?"

The bald boy's scowl deepened and his dark grey eyes cut from side to side, as if suspecting himself the butt of a joke.

"You look like a girl."

"I do _not_," Kanesuke frostily told him, turning his nose up. "How dare you speak to your betters in such an uncouth way! Get away from me, you're dirty."

"_Eh_? _Betters_?" His voice rose again, the volume enough to make Kanesuke wince. "Who the hell do you think you are, girlie-boy?! _Huh_?"

"_I_ am - " Caution made him pause with his mouth open, which made the youth's scowl deepen into a fierce baring of his white teeth.

"You forgot? _Eh_?!"

"I'm..."

He started tapping his sword against his shoulder, weighing the necessity of using it again on the boy he'd just helped save.

"_Ayasegawa_," Kanesuke blurted, landing on something safe. The Ayasegawa were a prolific, wide-spread clan that could claim holdings in several noble areas, so they couldn't be tied to one noble family or another. "Ayasegawa...Yumichika."

"You _sure_?" The look was not at all friendly, but then it hadn't been friendly from the start, not even when this rude, loud creature had thought he was a girl.

"I'm _positive_!" He spat, repeating the name desperately to himself so that he wouldn't forget it. "And how dare you demand my name when you haven't offered your own? Have you no manners? Honestly, you country people are appalling!"

"Shut up," he was told, which shocked him into open-mouthed silence. Never in his _entire life_ had anyone ever dared to say such a horrible thing to him! He'd been remiss to think this youth rude - _insufferable_ was closer to the truth. "Madarame Ikkaku."

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and turning his nose up again.

"Hey, _hey_! It had _better_! It's the name of the man who just saved your hide!" the youth shouted, pointing at him with his sheathed sword.

"Ikkaku?" he repeated, turning an appraising eye on the other boy. "Hmph. How common. And I'd hardly classify you as a _man_."

Ikkaku bristled, then abruptly laid that sword across his shoulders, holding it in place with his arms draped over it.

"You're welcome," he said, turning to leave. "Not that I'd expect a thank you from some noble brat."

"It should be your honor to help me," the newly-named Yumichika informed him. "That aside, I can take care of myself!"

"Then do!" Ikkaku snarled back at him. "And stop being such a girl! It's misleading!"

"Honestly!" Yumichika huffed. "I can't help it that I'm beautiful! I have good breeding! You would be beautiful, too, if you had good lineage!"

"Shut up!" Ikkaku yelled, and stormed down the alley, slumping with that sword over his shoulders and his bare feet slapping the packed dirt. "And take that jewelry off, stupid! It's no wonder people keep trying to rob you!"

"W...what?" Yumichika had forgotten about the layered rings on his fingers and the quality of his kimono. He hadn't given a thought to how that must appear to these poor, miserable people, simply because it was so common-place to himself. What else was unusual about him that would draw attention? What else didn't he know about this place due to his higher status? "_Ikkaku_! Wait!"

"Eh?" the youth stopped but only turned slightly, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.

He wasn't really sure how to make his request. He'd never had to ask for help before, people had always fallen all over themselves to anticipate his needs.

Stiffly, with a haughty disdain that was mostly nerves, Yumichika grandly offered, "If you will help me, I will give you the benefit of my company."

It was a more than generous offer. Someone as rough and unrefined as Ikkaku would _surely_ want to better himself, and Kanesuke - no - _Yumichika_ was the best option for that.

Needless to say, he was absolutely unprepared for Ikkaku's harsh, loud laughter.

"I beg your pardon, but _what_ is so funny?"

The youth bent over, he was laughing so hard, tears forming at the corners of his grey eyes and spilling over with the force of his humor.

"Explain yourself!"

"Heh, _shut up_, I said!" Ikkaku managed to gasp, his laughter tapering down to chuckles. "You're a piece of work, Yumichika - you sure think something of yourself."

"I would prefer that you call me _Ayasegawa_," Yumichika told him. "And why shouldn't I think something of myself? I'm beautiful and talented, well-mannered and graceful. In other words, I am everything you aren't, Ikkaku. You could stand to learn a thing or two from me."

"Likewise." The quip left him speechless again, but at least Ikkaku hadn't left.

"Well?"

"You're hopeless," Ikkaku told him. "You probably can't fight well, not when you're so obsessed with your looks. I can't think of a reason to let a self-absorbed brat tag along, especially one who looks _and dresses_ like a girl."

"I will have you know that this is a traditional day garment for a noble of my standing," Yumichika informed him, fussing with the heavy silk.

"And for a person of _my _standing, it's a sign that you're as stupid as you are rich, and you need robbing." The youth turned to face him fully, thoughtful, though it looked like something painful to undergo from the expression on his face. With a heavy sigh, he finally said, "_Fine_! You can come along with me. But don't be so mouthy!"

"Well, I - "

Ikkaku pointed at him with the sheathed sword again, loudly overwhelming his protest with, "_And don't be so damned prissy_! If you want me to help keep you hidden, then stop being so difficult!"

Yumichika gaped at him, certain that he'd never let such a thing slip. Ikkaku's angry expression slid into one of gleeful orneriness and he said in his raspy voice, "_Yeah_, I already know, brat! There's no way a noble would be around here unless they were running from something, right? I'm not as stupid as I seem."

"Well," Yumichika softly said, agreeing. "You certainly aren't as stupid as you _look_."

It had the satisfying effect of wiping that smirk off of Ikkaku's face.

"First things first - _that goes_!" The sword aimed at Yumichika's kimono.

"How dare you! I couldn't possibly - "

"_No arguments_!" Ikkaku flatly said, and it was _his_ turn to look arrogantly away. "That thing is worth more than you could know and you're gonna need the money, especially if you get hungry. Besides, anyone looking for you would find you fast just asking after it. It's better to unload it."

"And what would I wear in the meantime?" Yumichika coolly asked him. "I can't go around naked!"

"Well, it wouldn't be too smart if you did," Ikkaku agreed. "We'll find you something else."

"Something beautiful?" Yumichika asked, regretfully touching the silk of his beloved kimono.

"_Shut up already_! We're selling it, I said!" Ikkaku shouted. "Get rid of your rings and you'll have enough to buy a thousand other kimonos, if you want to keep dressing like a girl!"

"It certainly suits me better than _that_," Yumichika said, pointing a disdainful finger at Ikkaku's drab, short summer wear. "How absolutely terrible!"

"Eh? You'll wear a woman's outfit but not a man's proper one? Scared of showing your legs?" It was said with a mean grin, intended to be sharp. "Probably scrawny. Most girls are modest, too."

"_Oh_! What a rude thing to say! How can you be so shamelessly vulgar?" Yumichika asked, flushing. "My legs are just as beautiful as the rest of me, but there is no reason to show them to such squalid, ugly people! It would just make them bitter and sad regarding their own lack of grace and symmetry. It would be cruel of me to show my body any more than I do."

Ikkaku snorted a rude, wordless reply and swung away, propping his sword on his shoulders again. "What a stupid conversation. I'm leaving."

Yumichika let him get a safe distance away - arm-swinging distance, of course - before following after him.

'_What a cocky, horrible person_,' Yumichika thought, avoiding puddles and the bodies of those men Ikkaku had knocked cold. How ugly they were, so common and crude. '_At least he can help me fit in_...'

He bumped right into Ikkaku's back and immediately scrambled away, fearful of getting sweat or blood or stink on him, his violet eyes wild.

"Hey, _hey_! Why are you so _close_?!" Ikkaku demanded, glaring fiercely down at him, though not by much. He seemed taller from a distance, and acted far bigger than he actually was, though the size of his hands and the shape of his limbs promised he'd grow into it eventually.

"Why did you stop so suddenly?" Yumichika asked, flushing, fanning himself with one hand. "_Commoners_ aren't supposed to touch nobility!"

"Well, you're one of us _commoners_ now, brat prince," Ikkaku told him. "And _you_ touched _me_."

"How rude!" Yumichika said, flustered, and asked again, "Why did you stop?"

"Which direction are you running from?"

"I am _not_ running - "

"Which direction are you mincing from?" Ikkaku amended, making the smaller boy glower at him with every ounce of his formidable, offended dignity. He should've dropped dead on the spot or begged for forgiveness, but oddly, he only seemed pleased.

"I would prefer to move away from any noble holdings, thank you very much."

Ikkaku shrugged. "Eh, ah well. It'll sell better in a nicer district. We'll go east and circle around into the center where it's less rowdy."

"East?"

"West, then," Ikkaku decided, somehow managing to be aware of the waver in Yumichika's voice, which was a miracle considering that he seemed to have the sensitivity of a rock. "I know a man who'll buy those rings."

"Oh _really_?" Yumichika asked, then drew back in sudden fear. "_Don't tell me you're going to rob me_!"

"_Shut up_! I'll help you, I said!" Ikkaku snarled, baring his white teeth. "Didn't I tell you not to be so mouthy? You're hopeless! Besides, if I wanted to rob you, I'd have done it already a thousand times!"

He headed off again, in a decidedly westward direction, his shoulders hunched to cup his sheathed sword.

"Hey, come on, I said!"

Yumichika considered that Ikkaku was tricking him, but in all honesty he didn't seem bright enough to try it, and the younger boy knew he was a match to make any assailant sorry, if he could just be bothered to fight with them.

Ikkaku didn't look back to see if he was following, and that decided him - Yumichika hurried after, this time keeping a wary eye on the youth's tense, slim back. Ikkaku didn't stop, however, until they reached the market district, which catered to those who had money enough to browse.

Yumichika stared around in awe, both horrified and fascinated by the goings-on. He'd always sent servants to the market, he'd never had any desire to go on his own, but it was a busy and lively place despite the ugly conditions. He hardly noticed whenever Ikkaku stopped to converse with a questionable old man. It was only once his hand was taken by a papery, ugly, and _old_ one that Yumichika deigned to turn his attention to the man, and then it was to gasp in horror, "_Unhand me_!"

"Don't mind her, she's noisy," Ikkaku said, grinning meanly.

"I am _not a woman_!"

"I'll take them," the old man rasped, baring a mouthful of ragged, stained teeth. "I'll give you 100,000 kan for them."

"_Sir_! This one alone cost four times that!" Yumichika informed him, wriggling the finger where the ring in question lay. "I'll have you _know_ - "

"Done. Take them off, Yumichika."

"How _dare_ you give me orders - "

"Take them _off_, I said!" Ikkaku repeated, and held his hand out for the money. "Pay up, old man."

"She's a feisty one..." the old man said, wrangling the rings off of Yumichika's slender fingers, much to his absolute and horrified consternation.

"She'll be better once she gets her balls," Ikkaku said, and then they both laughed like it was some kind of joke while the youth gaped at them in stunned silence. "Never mind him, he's just a pretty face."

"_Pretty_?!" Yumichika hissed, recoiling as his hand was released. "Is _that_ all you can say? I let you raise your voice to me as if we are even _remotely_ of the same standing, allow this dried-up stranger to touch my precious hand, and you have the _gall_ to insult me?!"

"Feisty," the old man repeated, and raised one shaggy eyebrow to peer at him. "But beautiful. You'll need to watch out, boy - people around here prey on the weak."

"Well, I _never_ - !"

"Thanks, old man," Ikkaku said, cutting off his sputtering reprimand. He took the pouch of offered coins without counting it and hooked Yumichika by the elbow with his hand, half-dragging him away. "Come on, brat. Let's get you something _beautiful_."

"Is everyone so awful?" Yumichika asked, wrenching away from him, his cheeks flushed with the force of his anger.

"You're just sensitive," Ikkaku told him, and added with a sharp, concerning smile, "Probably lack of stimulation. You noble people spend too much time cooped up with each other and inbreeding. This is like a new world for you, huh?"

Yumichika's eyes widened; Ikkaku seemed inordinately pleased.

"_Inbreeding_?!"

"Come on, I said," Ikkaku told him. "There's a lady up here who can sell you some clothes."

"_Ikkaku_!" Yumichika snarled, bolting after him as quickly as his _zori _would allow.

"Hey, don't be so uptight, Yumichika," Ikkaku said, giving him a look over one shoulder. "Don't take yourself too seriously, yeah? Whoever is after you, they won't get to you if you're with me, trust me."

Yumichika flushed and dropped his gaze, saying with a soft waver in his voice, "I can take care of myself..."

"Yeah, sure you can," Ikkaku said, and laughed his raspy laugh. "Come on, I said. Let's get you some clothes and get some food."

He headed off again, expecting that Yumichika would follow.

And he did.

"They can, you know."

He wasn't sure why he was pressing it, only that Ikkaku's confidence bewildered him because he didn't understand its source. And Ikkaku certainly couldn't understand the forces that were moving against Yumichika, nor would he have a reason to care.

'_I'll see if he's serious_,' he thought, waiting for a response that didn't come. '_The second he understands, he'll vanish...and probably take my money with him_...'

"They _can_ get to me."

"No they can't," Ikkaku said, and aimed an irritated scowl at him. "Shut up! I don't do things halfway, brat! If I'm taking you on, I'm taking you on - even if you are a snobby, stuck-up, self-absorbed kid." He laughed again, his eyes narrowing. "You wouldn't last a minute alone. What kind of man would I be to leave a kid so hopeless, heh? So shut up, I said, and come on."

Yumichika stared at him, wondering what on earth fed that confidence. He envied him a bit, too, if he would admit it.

"Come _on_, I said!"

Yumichika scrambled into step at his side, feeling a little less despondent, enjoying the way that others around them gave them wide berth.

"Ah, those poor people! They've never seen anyone so beautiful," he sighed, stroking his silky hair and bestowing a smile on those who hastened to make room for them. "Wretched creatures, ashamed to show themselves before me..."

Ikkaku laughed a short, harsh laugh and said, "Yeah, _right_. They aren't moving because you're _beautiful_, brat! It's because I've already been here awhile."

"Eh? What do you mean?" Yumichika asked, looking up at him. "You're telling me that they're scared of _you_?"

However outlandish it sounded, it seemed to be the truth. Yumichika watched people scatter before them, their wide eyes on the young man beside him, their mouths moving in frantic whispers to spread the word.

"Ikkaku...why are they afraid of you?" He asked, wondering if he'd been foolish after all to come with him. But he seemed so straightforward...and stupid...

"Because I like to fight," the youth said, tipping his head to look up at the washed-out sky. "It's all I do, really."

"Wh...why?"

Ikkaku shrugged, idly tapping his sheathed sword against his shoulder. "I hate it here. I hate everything about this place. It's all so stupid and pointless it just pisses me off."

Yumichika moved a step closer, intrigued. "But this is your home, isn't it? You were born here - "

"I _wasn't_," Ikkaku growled, growing more agitated. "I _wasn't_ born here. I came here like this just a few years ago."

'_Came here like this_...'

"You mean...you mean that you died before your time in the World of the Living?" Yumichika asked, mystified. He'd heard of such stories, but noble families didn't mingle with commoners, and they were the only ones who ever accepted such outcasts. He'd known that it would be true - after all, the World of the Living was a dangerous place where people were killed in droves all of the time - but he'd never expected to meet someone who'd gone that way. "How unsettling. You just woke up here, then?"

"Yeah," Ikkaku said, scowling at a man who didn't move quickly enough, his bare foot landing a kick that motivated a faster scramble. "One second I was there and the next I was in the worst district."

"Do you remember your life?" Yumichika asked, wondering what that was like. Nobles were born in Soul Society and when they died their souls were reborn in the World of the Living - none of them would ever remember their life in Soul Society, it was a failsafe to protect the soul itself. Who could live with the memories of a thousand lives? When Ikkaku died here in Soul Society, he would lose all of his memories to be reborn in the World of the Living.

"Yeah," Ikkaku answered, and just that one word was dark and angry enough to keep Yumichika from asking more questions. "I went where I shouldn't have, and we all paid the price."

He left that bewildering statement alone, sensing that a deep, seething pit of anger lay beneath. He didn't know Ikkaku at all, really, not well enough to trust that Ikkaku wouldn't snap and hurt him.

"When you get reborn, none of that will remain," Yumichika said by way of consolation. "When you die here, you'll go back to the World of the Living and all of those memories will fade."

Ikkaku's fingers tightened on his sword and his shoulders hunched a little in tension.

"None of it..." he said, a pained expression on his stern face. "Then I guess I need to die."

Alarmed, Yumichika scolded, "Not until I'm safe! You promised, remember? You said you'd take care of me! You can't die until I'm safe!"

Ikkaku angled an angry glance at him, but it melted into one of wry amusement and resignation. "You're selfish, Yumichika."

"Not as selfish as _you_," the boy sniffed, feigning offense. "Trying to get out of a promise by dying! Of all the dramatic things!"

"I'm not trying to get out of anything, brat!" Ikkaku shouted, slapping his sheathed sword against Yumichika's chest. "I'll take care of you, I said! I'll stick around until you're okay! So shut up!"

"You vile, uncouth creature!" Yumichika called him, fanning himself prettily. "Don't worry me like that! It isn't beautiful to speak of death so easily. And no wonder you hate this place if you remember where you're from! Don't judge all of Soul Society by the company you've been keeping, Ikkaku - you're with me, now. I'll civilize you, you'll see."

_That_ made him laugh, a hearty and raspy laugh that actually sounded happy.

"Civilize _me_?" he repeated, shaking his bald head. "Not a chance, brat! Not a single chance! Here, now - let's get you something you like so that we can sell that kimono off."

Yumichika reluctantly agreed, moving primly in Ikkaku's wake like a beautiful, graceful flower - or, at least he imagined that must be what he was like. _Anyone_ would look graceful in the wake of Ikkaku's stomping gait. However, even _he_ would admit that there was a certain animal-like beauty in the way Ikkaku moved, as if he was some type of large predator that feared nothing and owned everything he set his fierce gaze on. It was a fanciful imagining that entertained him all the way into the kimono shop, then quickly lost out to dismay when he realized how poor a selection he would be forced to make.

"I...Ikkaku!" he cried, horrified, staring around in terror at the quality of kimono offered at the small shop. "_They're awful_!"

"Hey, _hey_! Shut up! Don't be so rude!" Ikkaku shouted, making the elderly proprietress flinch. "Just pick something out already!"

"But they aren't even _pretty_!" Yumichika wailed, clutching his kimono tightly to forestall its loss. "I can't wear anything so ugly!"

"Pick something or I'll pick it for you," Ikkaku warned, glaring at him. "Whatever the case, _that thing goes_."

"But they're hideous!" Yumichika said, covering his face with both hands to block out the drab colors and worn threads. "This is a _second-hand_ _shop_! How can I wear something that someone else has already worn?!"

"They've been washed, young lady," the elderly woman said, shaking her bony finger.

"I am _not a woman_!" Yumichika gasped, dropping his hands to stare daggers at her. "How dare you!"

"Eh? That's a fine garment you have," she said, coming closer to touch it, admiring the silk. "You could have my whole shop for this, but then what would I sell to live?"

"Do you have anything special put by?" Ikkaku roughly asked. "We can pay."

"Special? He wants something special?" she echoed, pressing her finger to her lips in thought. "And he hates second hand...but I have something that was only worn once, it is so special."

Yumichika perked up, hoping it would be something wonderful and _clean_.

"Let me get it for you."

She hobbled away into the back room and started rooting around.

"How dare you bring me to such an ugly place!" Yumichika hissed, sidling closer to Ikkaku.

"Shut up, I said," the boy repeated, elbowing him a step away. "Be polite, brat."

"These people wouldn't know manners if they slapped them in the face," Yumichika snapped. "Honestly, how could I expect to find anything remotely suitable in such a place?"

"Here you are," the woman said, shuffling back to them. "It's been worn once and kept well. What do you think?"

The cedar box she offered held a carefully folded kimono of lavender with pink and green pinwheels embroidered on it in artfully dyed thread. It was lovely, of fine quality, and adequately suitable for everyday use.

"It was my mother's wedding gift," the woman said, lovingly touching the delicate cloth. "But I'm old enough that even my memories are for sale. When I die, no one will want it anyway..."

"He'll take it," Ikkaku said, closing the box. "How much?"

She named a price that made Yumichika sputter in indignation, but Ikkaku agreed provided that she throw in the undergarments with it, all of which were of lower quality than the ones Yumichika currently wore.

"These will chafe me," Yumichika complained, whispering it fiercely as the woman took his coin. "Ikkaku, I'm _tender_."

"Well, you won't be for long," Ikkaku said, grinning at him. "Tender doesn't last, Yumichika. If you want to stay beautiful _and _tender, then you'd best learn to fight really, _really_ well." He punctuated his statement by giving Yumichika a hearty slap on the back.

The smaller boy's eyes widened at the sharp, unexpected pain on his barely dry wounds and leaped away from Ikkaku with a shrill yelp.

"What on earth?"

"_Ouch_!"

Ikkaku watched him with narrowed, cat-like eyes, suspicion steadily creeping into his expression.

"Come here."

"_No_," Yumichika said, panting to control the force of his pain, willing it to subside. He turned away from Ikkaku with arrogant disdain, poking his nose into the air as if nothing had happened.

"Come _here_, I said!" Ikkaku snarled, closing the distance between them with a fierce growl. He snagged Yumichika by the collar of his kimono and wrenched it downwards, half dragging him out of his clothes.

"_Stop_ it!" Yumichika cried, wriggling wildly to dislodge Ikkaku's hand, frantic that those awful, painful stripes on his back would be exposed to prying, dismissive eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest and gripped the kimono like grim death, wincing as the movements reopened the busted skin on his back. "_Ikkaku_! Stop!"

"Shut up," Ikkaku ordered, easily fighting Yumichika's hands down with only one of his own while the other managed to loosen the kimono. He gave it one more hard pull and exposed the white _juban_ beneath, where the blood had only just started to seep through.

He abruptly stopped, shocked.

"Yumichika..."

The smaller boy flinched, shamed to the depths of himself by those marks, a clear sign to anyone of his worth to his family, to his _father_.

"Stop it," he whispered again, stricken, shamed. Embarrassed, humiliated tears sprang into his eyes and he closed his lids against them, shutting out both Ikkaku and the old woman watching them. It was horrible enough to have a stranger see his shame, let alone _another_ stranger who couldn't care less about him or his pain.

He made a soft sound of shocked dismay when he felt Ikkaku's hand reach into his kimono and tug the ties loose completely.

"What are you doing?!"

Instead of answering, Ikkaku merely hoisted the loosened _juban_ down to see the extent of the damage.

"Who did this?"

"None of your business!" Yumichika weakly said, trying to shrug the _juban_ layers and kimono up over his slender shoulders, trying to hide the ugly proof, his punishment for being himself.

"Ayasegawa Yumichika, _tell me his name_!" Ikkaku said, his young voice rising with anger. "I swear I'll kill whoever did this to you!"

Startled, Yumichika stopped trying to escape and just turned a little to stare at him in disbelief, his dainty hands still clutching the folds of his clothing around his chest. Strangely, Ikkaku's expression of furious indignation didn't frighten him...it made him feel..._better_.

"I...Ikkaku..."

"I swear I will, you just tell me their names," he roughly said, letting go of Yumichika's clothes. "Even a dog shouldn't be beaten this way, let alone someone like you."

"Ikkaku...please...don't say anything more," Yumichika quietly begged, feeling the old woman's eyes on them like sharp, shrewd daggers. If anyone came asking after him with a reward, would she hesitate? No, no one in this ugly, horrible town would hesitate.

"What kind of coward does this? I _know_ these marks," Ikkaku snarled, his anger only strengthening. "What kind of gutless, spineless worm has a boy held down and caned, _heh_? What kind of monster uses something that will _cut_?"

"M...my father," Yumichika whispered, turning away to shrug his clothing back on, wincing as the cloth settled against his skin. "Please don't say such things. You don't even know me. You don't know _anything_ about me. Maybe I deserved it - "

"Shut up!" Ikkaku flared. "What on earth could you do to deserve _this_? Just _shut up_, I said, and let me kill him!"

"Young man, that's quite enough of that," the old woman interrupted, moving to put one gnarled hand on Ikkaku's corded forearm. "You there, boy, those wounds need treating."

Ikkaku scowled at her, then tipped his head back to ask with a glare, "You have something?"

"I do."

"How much?" Ikkaku asked, reaching out to snag Yumichika by the elbow as he feebly tried to right his clothing.

"For this? It's nothing."

Yumichika was surprised that she would offer something at all, let alone for free. Perhaps he'd been hasty in his estimation of these people...

"There's a bath-house two streets east," she said, hobbling to the counter to reach beneath. "Wash them thoroughly before you put this salve on. It'll sting but it'll heal much faster. I've some scraps for bandaging if you want them."

"Thanks," Ikkaku said, letting her bundle the salve in with the kimono and tuck it in his arm. "You never saw us."

"I'm an old, old woman, child," she said, grinning toothlessly. "I can hardly see a thing anymore."

She reached out and helped Yumichika get his clothing straightened, careful of his back, tying the sashes with just the right tightness of a woman well accustomed to dressing her children.

"This is a rough district, but if you're set on vanishing, young man, then I suggest heading to worse," she told him, and sent them off with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Yumichika found himself straining not to let her out of his sight. He wasn't sure _why_, only that she had been kind to him when he least expected kindness, only that she'd shown concern for him when no one in his family ever had. She, and Ikkaku...

He turned his attention back to the furious, glowering youth. Ikkaku was grumbling under his breath, and every once in awhile his fingers would tighten on Yumichika's arm before he'd realize what he was doing.

"Ikkaku..."

"..._kill_ him..."

"Ikkaku!" Yumichika said again, a note of desperation entering his voice. "I can't keep up with your stride! _Ikkaku_!"

The youth only paid attention once Yumichika stumbled, his _zori _snagging on a stone.

"You're walking too fast!" he scolded, pulling away to try to regain a semblance of his dignity. "Why are you dragging me?"

"Because you're _stupid_!" Ikkaku told him, glaring at him. "Stupid Yumichika! How could you not tell me about this! Why didn't you say so at the start? Then I could've just gone back and killed him right off, and you wouldn't have to do all this!"

Once his pride got over the fact that Ikkaku had called him _stupid_, Yumichika realized that the boy wasn't actually angry at _him_. He was concerned. He was upset on Yumichika's behalf. It kept his sharp tongue from shooting out a scathing retort. Instead, Yumichika just managed a weak smile and told him, "He's my father, Ikkaku. He's a very powerful lord; there's no way you could get to him without being killed. You haven't known me long enough yet to understand that I'm worth dying for."

Ikkaku's glare didn't lessen in intensity. In fact, he seemed to get even more offended.

"_Don't tell me what I will or will not die for_!" He snarled, pointing his finger in Yumichika's face. "I've seen enough of this before!"

"In the World of the Living?"

It was an innocent enough question, but whatever it called to mind caused Ikkaku to fall abruptly silent.

"Ikkaku...thank you..."

"Don't," he snapped, baring his white teeth. "I haven't killed him _yet_."

"No, thank you for getting angry when I can't," Yumichika said. "No one has ever been angry about anything my father has ever done to me, and I've been through much worse. Thank you for getting angry about it...I didn't think to tell you. I didn't think it would matter - "

"Stupid," Ikkaku cut in, disgusted.

" - and I was ashamed for anyone to see it," Yumichika finished.

"Ashamed?" Ikkaku echoed. "_Heh_?! _Ashamed of what_?! Why should _you_ be ashamed, Yumichika?!"

He clenched his fist and shook it, promising, "If I get half a chance, I'll show that man what it's like to be beaten like a slave! Now, come on, Yumichika, I said! I'll look after those for you."

He didn't drag him again, thankfully, but he did slow his pace to let Yumichika keep up as they made their way through the increasingly crowded streets. Instead of the bath-house, Ikkaku took him to a modest inn and warned him to, "keep quiet or I'll pound you!"

"We're all full up," the innkeeper said as soon as they cleared the door frame. He looked worn out but not old, used up and tired. "Try somewhere else."

"It's not for me, old man," Ikkaku said, glowering fiercely at him. "I want you to put this girl up tonight on my coin."

Yumichika nearly swallowed his tongue. Luckily, it kept him from shrieking in outrage.

The man's brows rose and he peered at Yumichika, who did his best to look demure instead of murderous.

"Entertain whores in your own quarters, Madarame," the man told him.

"_Whores_!" Yumichika cried, horrified and offended. "_Sir_! I am _not a whore_!"

He drew up to his full height of five whole feet, stuck his nose into the air, and crossed his arms over his decidedly flat chest.

"Oh?"

It made the man take a better look at him.

"See?" Ikkaku asked, cajoling. "Take good care of her, she's a lady, right? Like I said, it's on my coin, you won't be out anything."

With an air of reluctance, the man grudgingly said, "Alright, alright." He motioned for Yumichika to follow him, but stopped Ikkaku in his tracks.

"I wanna see where she'll be at," the youth said, just _daring_ the man to deny him. "I wanna make sure I'm getting what I'm paying for with this room, yeah? Or do you want to make an issue of it?"

Something in his look or reputation - or both - convinced the man that it wasn't worth it, and he dropped his hand to show them both back to Yumichika's room.

It was a modest, narrow area with a sad-looking futon rolled in the corner and only one screen to the outside, which suited Yumichika just fine since the courtyard was untended and neglected.

"This'll do," Ikkaku decided. "She's going to need a bucket of hot water, though. And the largest meal you can manage."

"She can go to the bathhouse," the innkeeper said.

"Sir," Yumichika said, doing his best to appear modest. "I've never in my life visited a public bathhouse, and who would chaperone me? Please, may I have just a basin of hot water? Just enough to freshen up?"

Ikkaku's brows shot up, either surprised by or impressed with his acting.

"Well...alright, but _he_ goes!" The innkeeper said, pointing at Ikkaku. "After all the damage last time, you're not welcome here, Madarame."

"Like I'd want to stay here!" Ikkaku flared, aggravated. "_Shut up_, old man! Here!"

He pulled out a pouch of coins and spilled a generous amount into the man's startled hands. "Take care of her like I said, understand?"

With that, he vanished like he'd never been.

'_He's left me_!' Yumichika thought, panicked, hearing the thump of Ikkaku's bare feet retreat back to the main entrance. Trying not to show his inner panic, he managed a simpering smile for the innkeeper, who just bowed slightly and left to fetch his water.

"I can't believe he left me!" Yumichika hissed to himself, shocked and strangely hurt. Had he _honestly_ believed what that Ikkaku had said? It shamed him to realize that he had. For some reason, he'd had no trouble placing his trust in Ikkaku despite having spent twelve years not trusting anyone after many hard, brutal lessons to that extent. Now he didn't have the money from the sale of his rings, the salve, the bandages, or even the used kimono...

"Psst, Yumichika..."

"Eh?" He peered around, startled to hear the soft, hissing voice in his empty room.

The screen to the courtyard inched open and one sparkling, dark grey eye peeked in at him.

"_Ikkaku_!" He softly squeaked, his relief alarming.

"Yo." The door slid open a bit further and the youth plopped the cloth-wrapped package inside. "Once the water and food gets here, tell him you don't want to be disturbed then come get me."

Without any further discussion, he slid the door closed.

It was a fair amount of time later that the innkeeper's wife scratched at the door and brought him a steaming kettle of water.

"I'll put this on the fire for you to keep it hot," she said, a plump and sweet-faced woman with nothing of her husband's bad humor. "My daughters are coming with the food, but I can't imagine a little thing like you could eat much."

Yumichika covered his face with his sleeve in imitation of his eldest sister, remembering how she'd always responded to compliments.

"We've never had a noble in the house before," the woman confided, beaming at him as her willowy daughters brought in several steaming trays. "I hope the food is serviceable - we don't have to eat, any of us - no spiritual power. Tell me...are you lost, dear?"

"N...no," Yumichika breathed, shaking his head.

"I hate the idea of such a lovely young lady alone on these streets," the woman said, faint concern creasing her pleasant face. "Is there anyone we can try contacting for you? I doubt any noble house would entertain communication from such poor people, but we could always try..."

"No, please don't worry yourself," Yumichika said, his stomach growling at the sight of so much food. "I have a friend who is seeing me home in the morning. I'm just too exhausted to continue this evening."

"Of course," the woman said, smiling as she shooed her daughters. "Let us know if you need anything, otherwise we won't disturb you until morning."

"Thank you," Yumichika said, dipping into a slight bow that made the woman blush with delight. "You're very kind."

Clearly pleased by the praise, the woman returned the bow and left, sliding the door closed firmly behind her.

He waited until their presence had faded before he hurried to the courtyard door.

"Ikkaku..." he whispered, sliding it open. Night had fallen in the meantime, lending the sad garden a strange, melancholic beauty. Moonlight softened the harsh edges that the sun had exposed, turning it into a private wilderness beneath the star-speckled sky.

"Ikkaku?"

"Hey."

The bald youth came wriggling out of the overgrowth, his sheathed sword in hand and his fair skin marred by bramble scratches. "What took so long?"

"The food," Yumichika whispered, hoping none of the other guests wanted to use the garden. A few of the doors were open to let in the night air, but no one seemed inclined to come out. "They won't be back tonight."

"Good," Ikkaku said, lunging to his feet and urging Yumichika back inside. "Did they bring the water?"

"There, on the fire," Yumichika said, closing the door. "The food is ready, are you hungry?"

"When aren't I?" Ikkaku asked, confirming Yumichika's assumption that the youth had some small measure of spiritual power. "But let's get your back taken care of first. Undress."

It was a startling order under the circumstances, and the suddenness of it made Yumichika recoil a little, clutching his clothes.

"No!"

"Eh?" Ikkaku cocked his head, his eyes narrowing. "What's the matter?"

"N...nothing," Yumichika managed, flushing. "It's just that I don't want to undress, is all."

"Yumichika," Ikkaku said, sounding weary. "Just _show me your back_!"

"Well, you don't have to be rude about it."

Yumchika had - as the prince Kanesuke - been naked before the eyes of strangers countless times. There was always a bevy of servants to help with his bath, to help with his dress, to tend him in any way he required. But nakedness was also his father's favorite path to shaming those within his control. Nakedness made one compliant, embarrassed, so eager to escape watching eyes that anything was obeyed or agreed to. It was a humiliating punishment Daichi often resorted to and it had made all of his sons - and, sadly, his daughters as well - terribly leery of removing their clothing.

Ikkaku, however, wasn't interested in seeing him squirm or flush with embarrassment. The youth left Yumichika to his task and went to tend his own, pulling the kettle off of the fire to pour hot water into a chipped ceramic bowl.

"_Tsk_! Too hot!" he hissed, quickly letting go of the cloth he'd dipped in. He glanced over at Yumichika, who had one arm out of the layers of his clothing, and said, "Give it a second to cool off. At least she boiled it clean, though."

His grey eyes narrowed a little again as Yumichika shrugged off the other side, letting the layers of his elaborate dress hang from his _obi_.

"That isn't the first time?" Ikkaku asked, noticing the faint traces of marks on Yumichika's ribs.

"No," the boy replied with as much dignity as he could muster. "It's because I like being beautiful. My father prefers to slowly destroy what people hold dear. That gives them ample time to comply with his wishes before they lose it forever..."

"He sounds like a real hero, your dad," Ikkaku said, scowling. "Did he never feed you, either? You're skinny!"

Yumichika blushed and crossed his arms over his slender chest, saying, "I beg your pardon?! I am _very_ careful about what I eat, _thank you very much_! I would die of shame if I was to get _fat_! I enjoy being slender!"

"You wouldn't look so bad with a little more weight," Ikkaku said, shifting the food tray closer to them both. "You've got muscle, though. I wasn't expecting that."

Yumichika stuck his nose into the air, not dignifying that with a response.

"Here, quit pouting and come eat," Ikkaku ordered, picking up a pair of _hashi_. "_Quit pouting_, I said!"

Yumichika slit one violet eye, pulled his clothing on with arrogant indifference, then gave in to the outrage of his stomach.

The food was simple but hearty and very filling. Despite his adamant refusal to overeat, Yumichika risked his slender waist for the sake of fulfillment and ate nearly as much as Ikkaku himself. By the time they had finished, the water had cooled sufficiently for use and Ikkaku ordered him out of his clothes again.

"Did he do this a lot?" the youth asked, wringing out the cloth and carefully cleaning the first stripe with concentrated, knowledgeable care.

"Often enough," Yumichika said, sitting with his arms wrapped around his bent legs and his chin resting on his knees. "He isn't very kind...But that isn't a requirement for being a lord."

"Why doesn't someone stop him?"

"Who would?" Yumichika asked, shrugging a little when Ikkaku managed to work the crusted blood off of one area. "No one stands against Ichigawa Daichi..."

"Ichigawa, huh?" Ikkaku repeated, making Yumichika utter a startled, dismayed squeak because he'd let it slip. "Well, whatever the case, he's a first-rate ass for doing this to his son."

Yumichika settled, grateful that Ikkaku hadn't made a big fuss about it. It was highly unlikely that he didn't know who the Ichigawa clan was - they ranked just below the four great noble houses and Daichi was determined to get their Clan included before his death. Ikkaku, however, didn't seem either impressed or intimidated by the power of Yumichika's family, he just continued to wash his back clean with the ease of someone who'd done the same a thousand times before.

"Is this the reason you ran away?"

The guarded tone of his voice warmed Yumichika - no one had ever taken any interest in him provided he behaved himself and adhered to the family's standards. Ikkaku's cautious curiosity came from true concern, a novel experience for the smaller boy.

"Would it surprise you if I said no?" Yumichika asked, and felt Ikkaku pause before chuckling, telling him, "Not really, Yumichika. It was probably because something was ugly, eh?"

"He wanted me to marry someone _far_ below my status," Yumichika said, summoning every bit of his disdain. "Worse, he wanted it just to get hold of their lands, which have always cut ours down the center."

"He wanted you to, so you refused and he caned you?" Ikkaku asked.

"I beg your pardon! I was _always_ a dutiful son!" Yumichika cried, offended. "No, it was _her_!"

"_Her_?"

"The ugly, horrid _girl_!" Yumichika spat, shuddering. "She has a face like a _goat_! And her hair is this hideous dirty color! Not to mention that she has the most _appalling_ taste in kimono!" He shuddered again, overwhelmed by the thought of it. "_Ew_! I couldn't bear the thought of being married to her! Just..._ew_!"

Ikkaku rinsed the cloth again and wrung it out, chuckling some more, genuinely amused.

"So you told him no because she's ugly," he reiterated, continuing his work on Yumichika's back. "And he caned you, and you decided you'd had enough?"

"And now I'm here with you, yes," Yumichika said, nodding sagely. "That's about the whole of it."

"Yumichika...are you sure about this?" Ikkaku asked. "You're used to a certain lifestyle, to a certain level of comfort, to _pretty_ things...where you're at now isn't close to pretty, not even on its best days."

"Are you suggesting I return to my father?" Yumichika asked him.

"_No_!" Ikkaku shouted. "_No_, I said! Only that maybe you should marry this girl anyway and live a long life away from him!"

"What a horrible suggestion!" Yumichika informed him. "I have absolutely no interest in marrying _any_ woman, unless she's as beautiful as _me_! And since _no one_ is as beautiful as me, then I don't have to worry about it! Ugh, I can't even bear the thought of being tied to someone ugly my whole life. I'd die of despair."

"Stupid," Ikkaku fondly called him, taking a final swipe at his back, which had begun to seep again. "You may change your mind, Yumichika. You're in an ugly place with an ugly bastard and nothing but meanness ahead of you. Never tell me you weren't warned..."

With that, he started smoothing salve onto Yumichika's wounds, making the boy hiss with pain when it started to sting. Luckily, by the time Ikkaku started wrapping the strips of silk around his torso, the pain had begun to numb.

"You look even skinnier with those bandages on," Ikkaku told him, looking at his wrapped back. "You must be even younger than I thought you were."

"How young do you think?" Yumichika asked, curious.

Ikkaku shrugged, coiling the rest of the bandages up. "Ten or so - "

"_I am twelve, I'll have you _know!" Yumichika shrieked, outraged.

"Oh?" Ikkaku asked, one brow lifting. "Twelve? Then you're pretty small at that."

"I am petite!" Yumichika snapped, frowning. "I am _petite_! What would you know, anyway? It isn't like you're already grown!"

Ikkaku shrugged again, putting all of the supplies back into a bundle. "I don't know, I've never thought about it. I wasn't born here, remember?"

_That_ shut Yumichika up. He wasn't sure it was polite to speak of such things, but Ikkaku didn't seem particularly offended.

"W...wouldn't you be the same age as when you died in the World of the Living?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I guess," Ikkaku said, plucking the ties of Yumichika's _kimono_ and pulling it off of him. "I was...I was thirteen when I died, and I've been here two years about..."

He dug out the other kimono and hung it up next to the fire with Yumichika's much finer one.

"I feel older than that," he admitted, stopping to stare at the flames. "I didn't realize that time would pass so slowly here."

"Don't rush it along, thank you very much!" Yumichika warned him, righting his underthings. "I have no desire to get old and wrinkly. Hopefully, I'll die at the height of my beauty, and be remembered forever."

Ikkaku grinned, showing his sharp white teeth and crinkling his dark grey eyes.

"That's a dream, brat," he said, moving to unroll the bedding. "Come on, you can have the bed."

Yumichika helped him get it prepared, relieved to have the nagging welts on his back dealt with. Whatever was in that salve had deadened his pain, a pain that he hadn't realized was so great until it was gone.

"I wish I had taken a bath," the boy lamented, thinking of his bath at home with a wistful sigh. "You'll have to show me these public baths, Ikkaku. It isn't beautiful to be dirty."

"It can't really be helped right now," Ikkaku said, folding the covers back to the foot and moving to open the terrace doors to get some air. "When they ask about a noble boy, people will have only seen a noble _girl_. I can't take you to a bathhouse where everyone will notice that you actually aren't one."

Yumichika's eyes rounded a little. "Y...you mean...people bathe _together_? They _see_ each other?"

"It isn't like anyone cares!" Ikkaku said, scowling at him. "Everyone is there for a bath, not to peek at each other! Don't be such a pervert!"

"I am _not a pervert_, thank you very much!" Yumichika gasped, offended. "I just can't imagine such a thing!"

"You'll get used to it," Ikkaku told him, then added with an ornery grin, "Or else you'll learn to be _dirty_."

Yumichika recoiled, wrinkling his nose.

"No thank _you_."

"Get to sleep, brat," Ikkaku told him, gesturing for him to get into bed.

Still miffed, Yumichika slid into the uncomfortable futon, unused to the hardness of the stuffing or the roughness of the sheets. He fretted and tossed until Ikkaku - who was sitting against the wall - roughly asked him, "What _is_ it?"

"It isn't comfortable!" Yumichika complained, shifting around to find a spot that didn't press against him too hard. "Honestly! It feels like I'm lying on rocks!"

"What?" Ikkaku asked, clearly not believing him. Scowling, he slid his sword to the side and shoved Yumichika over to flop down next to him. After a long moment, he said, "Ouch."

"See?"

"Shut up anyway, it's better than sleeping on the street," Ikkaku told him, rolling to give him his back, his long legs shoving the rough sheets down.

Yumichika couldn't deny that one, but it did nothing to lessen his discomfort.

"...Ikkaku?"

"Eh?"

"...I think I'd rather sleep outside..."

"Shut up," Ikkaku growled. "Go to sleep."

"I _can't_!" Yumichika wailed, flushing with anger at how ridiculous this was. Honestly, did none of them know the value of a decent bed?!

"I swear, if you don't lay down and go to sleep, I'll use _you_ as a mattress," Ikkaku threatened. "Don't think I won't do it."

Yumichika sat up, considering him by the light of the fire and the glowing lamps.

"That's an idea..."

"Eh? What is?" Ikkaku asked, then scowled when he caught Yumichika's intense look. "You are _not_ sleeping on me!"

Yumichika turned his nose up and flopped back down, wincing. It wasn't _so_ bad, really, just not what he was used to...and he certainly had become used to good things.

He felt Ikkaku shift next to him, then heard the light tread of his feet as he moved to extinguish the lamps. A moment later the bedding shifted again as the youth returned to the futon. He heard the boy sigh, then felt his fingers settle on his arm.

"Hey, Yumichika," he said, tugging. "Come here."

"Leave me alone," Yumichika said. "I'm trying to go to sleep."

"Shut up!" Ikkaku flared, and gave him a hard yank that landed the smaller boy half atop him. "Now go to sleep!"

"That's what I was trying to do!" Yumichika hissed, but in all reality it wasn't too terrible. Ikkaku was warm, relatively clean, and infinitely less uncomfortable to lay on than the futon mattress, even if it was just his head and part of his body pillowed on the older boy. He settled his cheek against Ikkaku's shoulder and curled his hand on the boy's yukata, loosing a relieved sigh as he relaxed.

"You don't smell," he murmured sleepily, lulled by the thump of Ikkaku's heart.

"Wish I could say the same for _you_," Ikkaku shot back, but it lacked real venom, and within minutes both of them were fast asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Yumichika woke to a rooster crowing somewhere in the street, but he was too comfortable to move. His body had formed a nest in the hard futon that had pushed away the biggest lumps, and a large, warm body was curled around him, tucked against him from nape to ankles. Soft breath stirred his hair, wafting over the shell of his ear, and a heavy, leanly muscled arm was folded around his waist, keeping him pulled tightly against someone as warm as a brand.

He shifted a little, yawning, wriggling a little closer to that comforting heat. Yesterday seemed like a distant memory, like something that had happened to someone else. Even the stripes on his back didn't hurt so much, despite the pressure of Ikkaku pressed to them. Actually, he felt better than he had for a long time, and the last thing he wanted to do was wake up to face another day.

"Stop moving," Ikkaku mumbled. "Stop it, I said..."

His arm tightened just a bit then relaxed. Yumichika felt the arm pillowing his head shift just a bit and the boy heard Ikkaku's sword scrape along the floor. He never let that thing out of his sight for a second, not even when he slept.

The rooster crowed again, the noise followed by a sleepy shout from outside somewhere. The town began to wake, rising wearily to face another empty day. How many times had they all been here? How many lives had they lived in the World of the Living and in Soul Society? It seemed horrifying to Yumichika that a spirit could be reborn so many times without retaining any knowledge of its former life - all of those memories, every precious thing held dear, every favorite place and favorite food, all of it forgotten, lost to a life that might as well have never been...

"Hey," Ikkaku lowly said, shifting a little at his back. "Knock it off, whatever it is you're doing."

"I'm just thinking, that can't possibly be bothering you," Yumichika whispered, though he wasn't sure why since they both were awake.

"It _is_," Ikkaku insisted, yawning. "You've coiled up like a spring, is what, so knock it off."

"Hmph."

Yumichika sat up and scooted over to the basin, intending to wash his face. The water was pink with his blood, and cold.

A scratch at the door had Ikkaku on his feet like a startled cat, his grey eyes wild.

"P...please excuse me, I'm not dressed," Yumichika softly said, hoping he sounded feminine enough. He glared at Ikkaku, who'd wisely frozen in place.

"Would you like some washing water?" the innkeeper's wife asked. "I've got a kettle here, if you'd like to set the other out, I'll come collect it later."

"That would be wonderful, and thank you for your consideration," Yumichika breathed.

"Oh, such manners!" the woman sighed, giggling softly. "Is there anything else I can get for you, young Lady?"

"Some breakfast, if you have any to spare? I'll leave the coin for it with the kettle."

"I'll send my daughter to market as soon as it opens. Let us know if you need anything, dear," she said, and there was a soft rustle as she moved off.

Ikkaku slumped in relief, sighing.

"Here, be useful and dump this out," Yumichika told him, handing the used basin to him.

Ikkaku scowled at him, but did so without protest as Yumichika hesitantly opened the sliding door.

A tea set was waiting on a tray, and the additional kettle was on a thick mat beside it. The scent of the tea was weak, but Yumichika was beginning to understand that these people had so little to give that such an offering was truly meaningful.

He quickly pulled the set inside, snagged the kettle, and firmly shut the door.

"Here," Ikkaku said, tossing the bowl down on the mat next to the fire. "It's empty, brat."

With an unconsciously prim properness, Yumichika took the bowl. "Thank you."

Ikkaku hunkered down next to him, squatting on his heels to watch Yumichika serve the tea. When he took his cup, he drank it in one go, rolling his eyes at the way the younger boy softly sipped his.

"We need to figure out what we're going to do," Ikkaku told him, breaking his silence.

"Do?"

"With _you_," Ikkaku clarified, accepting a second cup when Yumichika wordlessly poured for him. "We can't keep on pretending you're a girl. You're bound to grow eventually."

"Ikkaku, as much as I detest being mistaken for a woman, it is a _little_ convenient right now," Yumichika said, thinking of the situation he'd gotten himself into. His father would _die_.

Which seemed reason enough for Yumichika to live the rest of his life as a woman...but even though he could bring new definition to the word spiteful, he wasn't about to bring harm to _himself_ to do so. With a deep sigh, he said, "I guess a noble of _any_ gender would be talked about?"

"Look, I know you don't want to go back to where there are a lot of snobby people like you," Ikkaku said, winning a pretty scowl from the smaller boy. "So here's this - get washed up or whatever it is rich folk do in the morning, change into whatever girlie get-up you want to prance around in, and we'll slip out the garden here as two guys."

He paused and considered, adding, "Well..._one_ guy and a kid who could go either way."

"I have a sword," Yumichika reminded him. "And I have little trouble using it."

It got Ikkaku to grin, but not precisely take him seriously.

"Then what?" Yumichika asked, giving up the battle for now, little knowing it would be the first of countless capitulations made for the sake of Madarame Ikkaku.

"Then we leave," the youth told him, shrugging broad shoulders that promised to become even broader with age. "We'll make our way around to a better district, I'll stash you somewhere and go sell that kimono, and then..."

Yumichika lifted an eyebrow, haughty yet curious.

"...well...we'll figure it out," Ikkaku said, gesturing the whole issue away. "At any rate, you'll be safe with me, and you can earn your keep somehow. Maybe I'll teach you to fight, so that you can take care of yourself when I die."

Yumichika pulled a pretty expression of disgust and told him in no uncertain terms, "You will _not_ die, Madarame Ikkaku! It's just _rude_!"

Ikkaku chuckled darkly and told him, "Finish your tea, brat."

Surprisingly, Ikkaku washed up with him, something Yumichika gallantly didn't make a fuss over. He figured that if he said even one word, Ikkaku would refuse to so much as _look_ at a washcloth ever again.

"We could wait for the food," Yumichika said, focusing on something else as they cleaned up. He didn't particularly _like_ baring his skin in front of anyone else, but Ikkaku took it as a matter of course and his utter lack of reaction soothed the smaller boy.

"Nah, we'll get something later," Ikkaku gruffly told him. "We'll get out of here before the town gets too rowdy and go sell off your kimono."

"Tsh, my nails are a mess," Yumichika mourned, doing his best to clean the grime out from beneath his ragged, snagged nails. "Uhg, how ugly. My maid would've fainted dead away to see my hands in this state. What a shame!"

He glanced up to find Ikkaku watching him with his usual scowl.

"Eh? What is it?"

"_You_," Ikkaku said, and shook his wrist once, hard, to emphasize his point. "Are you a man? Crying about your nails like a little girl, _heh_! How embarrassing."

"Well, pardon _me_ for refusing to walk around looking like an outcast from a salt quarry, thank you very much!" Yumichika tartly told him, then cast another longing look at his hands. "They were so beautiful," he softly sighed, more to antagonize Ikkaku than anything.

"Heh, what a stupid thing to cry about!" Ikkaku declared, and gained his feet in one fluid, graceful movement. He tapped his sheathed sword restlessly against his calf and took a quick look outside while Yumichika finished dressing. "Okay, fold that kimono up and put it in with the bandages; we're leaving."

"Is it safe?" Yumichika inquired, reluctantly thinking that his father was very likely on his trail by now, and would most certainly have both the means and the determination to catch up to him far faster than Yumichika could outpace him.

"Yeah, hardly anyone is up yet," Ikkaku said. "_Come on_, I said, Yumichika! Don't lay there all day crying about your fingernails!"

Yumichika smirked but did as he was directed, eager to be up and away, to be even further from the chilly shadow of his father's hand. The chances that he could evade his father forever were pretty slim, but he intended to give the man a good run. Maybe, if he made his father angry enough, he'd be punished _away_ from the family homestead instead of in the middle of it.

The pair of them slipped out into the garden and through the gate onto the dusty, uneven road. Just as Ikkaku had said, hardly anyone was up yet but for merchants and some industrious individuals who farmed.

Yumichika felt very nearly inconspicuous in his newly-purchased kimono as they walked along, and hoped it was ruse enough to throw his father's headhunters for a little while.

"Hey, Yumichika," Ikkaku said, glancing at him from the corners of his sly, grey eyes. "How's your back, brat?"

"Oh? Fine," Yumichika answered, shrugging his shoulders a little to test the skin. "That salve worked wonders. Why do you think she gave it to us?"

"Who knows?" Ikkaku answered, turning his head to sweep the street, always on the alert. "Maybe you reminded her of someone..."

He lifted his sword to his shoulders and draped his arms over it in his usual negligent pose, his long feet kicking up dust on the road.

Yumichika glanced behind them, the fine hairs on his nape standing up when he saw two somberly-clad men coming out of a residence. Without thinking, he barreled into Ikkaku, both of them falling into the shadow of a clothesline strung with laundry.

"Eh? _Yumichika_! What - " Ikkaku abruptly cut himself off when he got a look at the boy's terrified face. In what might've passed for a whisper in his terms, he asked, "Where?"

"There, across the street and up," Yumichika answered, his heart pounding painfully. He was trembling and he hated it, hated that his father had the power to make him go weak with terror, even from such a distance. "He's sent out searchers...it's only a matter of time before he gets a lead and sends his headhunters."

"Ah, well, I'll deal with them," Ikkaku announced, and started to take a step out of the shadows.

"_Ikkaku_!" Yumichika snagged him by the hard muscle of his bicep and forcefully tried pulling him back, an action that was only successful because Ikkaku didn't resist it. "Are you _crazy_? My father's men are very dangerous! We need to go far, far away! _Please_!"

Ikkaku glared at him, his mouth pulled down in a frown, but something in Yumichika's utter, stark fear seemed to decide him. "You think I can't handle them? _Eh_?"

Yumichika drew up, more from fear now than from his natural haughtiness, and told him in short, clipped tones, "_No_. I do _not_!"

The second he said it, he knew he shouldn't have. In fact, it was probably the last thing in the world he should have said - the words were no sooner out of his mouth than Ikkaku was out in the middle of the street, stomping his way up towards those men.

Yumichika made a soft, despairing sound of frustration and crowded close to the pole holding up the clothes, peeking out from behind a flapping sheet to see Ikkaku in all of his cocky glory.

"Man, what a boring day!" Ikkaku said, his loud voice echoing off of the quiet houses. "What a stupid town this is! How come no one wants to fight me, eh?"

"Hey, you there!" one of the men said, turning to watch Ikkaku. "Maybe you can help me - "

"_Help_ you, eh?" Ikkaku asked, drifting to a stop just beyond the man's reach. "Why should I?"

Even from such a distance Yumichika could see the man flush with anger and irritation, and he silently cursed Ikkaku for baiting him.

"There's a reward," the man said, making Yumichika's blood run cold. He was too much his father's son to think that anyone could resist a reward, especially if it was of a sum far in excess of expected. His heart sped up again, deafening him, and he nearly bolted.

But then he thought of Ikkaku so carefully putting salve on his wounds and he hesitated. He didn't know much about that violent and rude young man, but if he couldn't put his faith in Ikkaku's promise, then what good was there in running? He'd be caught for sure without help and maybe, just _maybe_, Ikkaku would choose Yumichika over the reward.

"How much?" Ikkaku asked.

"Ten thousand _kan_ for any information on a certain someone," the man told him, relaxing in the face of Ikkaku's apparent interest. "One hundred thousand if you can tell us where he is."

Ikkaku scratched his bald head, considering, then shrugged, asking, "Who's the criminal, eh?" When the men shifted in discomfort, he said with increased volume and heat, "_Who is it, I said! _One hundred thousand kan must mean he's dangerous."

"No," the man said, exchanging stiff looks with his partner. "He's a young noble, twelve years old but small for his age."

"Noble, eh?" Ikkaku mused. "_How_ noble?"

"He is a _Prince_," the man flared, quick to defend the status of his chosen house. "His family will pay handsomely to have him returned _unharmed_."

"What a stupid thing to do," Ikkaku told them, shrugging his sword down to hold it loosely at his side. "Running away from a rich family like a brainless idiot."

"Oh!" Yumichika fumed, fists clenching behind the sheet, nearly revealing himself in his outrage.

"But I guess I would, too," Ikkaku said, confusing the men before him. "If my father was a monster like Ichigawa Daichi..."

They leapt away from him, swords appearing from sheaths concealed in their garments.

"How do you know our employer?" the man demanded, his hands tightening on his sword hilt. "Explain yourself!"

"_Explain_ myself?!" Ikkaku asked, the volume of his voice raising yet again. "Hey, listen you two - I'll give you a head start, since there's only two of you."

They laughed, but didn't seem to understand him. "We don't need a head start from you, brat! Tell us where the Prince is, and we'll let you live."

Ikkaku grinned, Yumichika could tell from the way he cocked his head and the tightening of his wide shoulders.

"Ah, well, that's a problem," he said, his voice lowering suddenly, so low that Yumichika almost couldn't make out his words. "You see, I don't care about living."

Both men seemed taken aback by the statement, unsure how to proceed.

"I don't _care_, I said!" Ikkaku snarled, pointing at them with his sheathed sword. "So let's see which one of us dies today!"

Yumichika clasped both hands over his mouth, biting down on his palm to hold in his horrified wail. He hadn't been trying to deceive Ikkaku when he'd spoken of dangerous men. His father, latest Clan head in a long line of nobles who'd sent sons into the Stealth Force, tolerated no less than exceptional talent in any of his people, including his children. Even the least of his men, like these out searching for Yumichika now, were lethally dangerous.

Ikkaku wouldn't stand a chance.

He was out from behind the sheet and tearing down the road before his brain had a chance to remind him of what waited back home. All he could think of was that he didn't want stupid, brash, ridiculously brave Madarame Ikkaku to die in the road like a dog for the sake of a vain, hot-headed boy running from his father.

"_Stop_!" he shrieked, and the three of them broke apart, two of them staring at him in dazed incomprehension while the third glared daggers at him. Trembling, on the verge of terrified tears, he said, "Don't kill him."

"_Yumichika_!" Ikkaku shouted, outraged. "I won't be killed by the likes of these two!"

"Please," Yumichika said, ignoring Ikkaku for now, because if he even _looked_ at the youth's scowling face, he'd probably come apart at the seams. He'd never had someone to be brave for before meeting Madarame Ikkaku; knowing that going back might save the scrappy young man's life made the fear lessen just a little. "He's got nothing to do with this. It's my fault that he's here at all; I asked him for his aide and he graciously provided it. Let him go."

"Prince Ichigawa Kanesuke," one of the men said, and even this close Yumichika didn't know him. "Your father desires your presence at home."

He laughed a little, knowing full well what that meant, and then he was able to look at Ikkaku.

"I'm sorry I got you into this," he said, and tossed the bundled kimono to land in the dust at Ikkaku's widespread feet. "Sell it and live well, Madarame Ikkaku."

"Eh? What's this, now?" Ikkaku asked, nudging it out of the way. "You talk like you're leaving, but you're not, Yumichika. You're not, I said!"

He lunged towards the men with a speed that startled Yumichika, and brought his sheathed sword down hard on an unprotected shoulder.

"You think I would go to all of this trouble for nothing? _Eh_?!" Ikkaku shouted, pummeling with his free fist as well as with his sword. "Show me that you can take care of yourself, Yumichika, and I'll let you go!"

"I...Ikkaku..."

Those grey eyes cut to his, full of _amusement_, damn him, and a pride so vast that there was plenty for Yumichika, too.

"Or are you worried about your _nails_? Eh?" Ikkaku asked, rapidly avoiding the retaliating fists aimed his direction.

_That_ decided him - Yumichika slid his sword from his sash and leapt into the fray.

It felt _good_ to fight, to lash back at the power that had always controlled him. So the skin of his back pulled open again, what of it? He was here, in this dirty street in an ugly district, but he was next to Ikkaku and holding his own against men who killed for a living. If he could survive to gloat about it, what a story this would be!

"Draw your swords!" Ikkaku yelled, the pair of them staggering back, Yumichika slightly behind him. "_Draw your swords, _I said!"

"We will not draw our swords in the presence of the Prince," the man stiffly told them, holding the sheathed weapon in his hand to counter Ikkaku's hits. "We cannot risk allowing harm to come to him."

"_Heh_, how boring," Ikkaku pronounced it, then shrugged again. "Eh, no helping it, then. We'll settle this like men...well, _kind of_ like men."

"Hmph." Yumichika refused to rise to the bait. He felt slightly more confident now that they hadn't been killed outright, but the dust was starting to cling to him, and he just _knew_ that he had dirt on his face. "Hurry up, Ikkaku. Fighting in a dirty street, it's just not beautiful."

Ikkaku grinned fiercely and flung himself back into the fray with Yumichika right behind him.

They won, surprisingly, a fact that only penetrated Yumichika's mind when he realized that both men were out cold in the street. Panting, he looked at Ikkaku and smiled, relieved.

"Hey, Yumichika," Ikkaku said, rapidly regaining his breath. "It might not be beautiful, but we did it. Didn't I tell you that I'd take care of you?"

He nodded, blushing a little beneath the layer of dust on his skin because Ikkaku's words warmed him from the depths of his heart all the way to his toes. "Don't gloat, Ikkaku. We might not've won if they'd drawn steel."

"Ah, well, they didn't, and a win is a win," Ikkaku said, straightening to settle his sword over his shoulders again. "Come on, Yumichika, let's get away from this place. If he sends more like these two, things should be fun."

"Fun? Hmph," Yumichika sighed, smoothing his hair back behind his ear. It was straggling from the quick horsetail he'd pulled it into and threatening to break free altogether. "What a strange idea of fun you have, Ikkaku."

The older boy headed off and Yumichika fell into step beside him after retrieving the kimono once more.

"So, that sword of yours," Ikkaku said, slowing his pace just a shade to accommodate Yumichika's shorter stride. "You know how to use it?"

"Ah, yes," Yumichika said, smiling slightly. "Of course I do."

"Let me see it," Ikkaku said, holding out one strong, capable hand for Yumichika's graceful weapon.

The smaller boy handed it over without any of his usual sass, feeling a little flattered that Ikkaku would show an interest in something of his without the intent to tease him about it.

"Hm..." Ikkaku unsheathed it with one hand, just enough to see the blade, then held it up by the middle, checking the balance. "It's a beautiful sword. Did your father have it made?"

"It's a family heirloom," Yumichika said, sliding a little closer. "I think my father's grandfather commissioned it."

"How did _you _end up with it?" Ikkaku asked, letting the blade drop back into the sheath and turning it to inspect the guard and hilt.

"My father was going to sell it," Yumichika said, frowning. "My eldest brother slipped it to me and told me not to say anything."

"Oh? Why?"

Yumichika shrugged a little. "He was always nice to me and our sisters. Not very many people were. I'm glad he'll take over the Clan when father dies. It will be nice for everyone to have someone just in charge."

Ikkaku handed the sword back, his grey eyes full of questions.

"How many brothers and sisters do you have, Yumichika?"

"Seven brothers, all older than me," Yumichika answered. "Three sisters older than me, and four younger. The youngest pair are twins my stepmother just delivered. There will probably be more. She seems pretty...prolific."

"That's a word for it," Ikkaku snorted, shaking his head. "So how many of you are blood siblings?"

"I don't have any, my mother died having me," Yumichika told him. "Only his eldest three sons share the same mother, the rest of us are all by his wives or concubines. At least I'm legitimate, though. Some of my half-siblings are servants because of it..."

"Hmph."

Ikkaku didn't seem particularly impressed by Yumichika's lineage.

"What about you?" he asked, turning the tables. "Where did you get your sword?"

Ikkaku sobered considerably, all humor dropping from his stern young face. His voice was stiff when he said, "It was with me when I got here."

Yumichika stared at him, sure that such a thing was not possible.

"W...what?"

"_It was with me when I got here, I said_!" Ikkaku repeated, glaring at him as if Yumichika had disagreed. "I died there with it, and when I finally woke up here, he was in my hand!"

"He?" Yumichika asked, reaching out to touch the sheath. Ikkaku drew it back for just a second, then shoved it at Yumichika to cover the movement. "Your sword has a gender?"

"Yeah," Ikkaku said, watching attentively, as if even a second away from his sword was a cause for concern. "Ever since I can remember, he's...been there."

Yumichika gave him a curious look, surprised whenever Ikkaku blushed and snatched the sword away.

"I don't think I understand," Yumichika admitted. "The only swords with spirits are the Death Gods' Soul Cutters. Is this a Soul Cutter?"

"I don't know!" Ikkaku snapped, sliding the sword to his other side and out of sight. "How would I know? It's always talked to me, is all! When I dream, I can hear him sometimes."

"Well, what does he say?" Yumichika asked, covering his nosiness in pragmatism.

Ikkaku gazed down at the dusty road, lost in thought, then lowly answered, "He says his name...only...I can't hear him clearly. Someday, though, I'll hear him and I'll know."

"Hmph."

It was something to think about, though. Yumichika had, as Prince Kanesuke, been exposed to many a Death God in his day and the facts surrounding them were simply a part of life as he knew it. Yet here was Madarame Ikkaku, torn from the World of the Living before his appointed time, waking in Soul Society with a sword that, by all rights, _shouldn't_ have a spirit inside of it. Was it possible for commoners to become Death Gods?

The two boys walked clear out of that district and circled around to head back towards the center, where the kimono would fetch the highest price. Yumichika, still unused to such abusive excess of walking, lagged to the point of being slow by the time the sun began to set. He was tired and hungry, having spent all of the adrenaline left over from their fight. They hadn't stopped to eat at all and Ikkaku didn't seem inclined to. In fact, when Yumichika finally stopped dead in his tracks, Ikkaku glared at him and asked, "Eh? What's this? What're you doing?"

"_Stopping_," Yumichika ground out, casting around for somewhere to sit. He was physically fit and used to exercise, given the strenuous nature of his drills and the expectations of his father, but he wasn't hardened to such repetitive movement and lacked Ikkaku's natural stamina.

"_Stopping_?! Why?"

"Because I'm _tired_, you idiot!" Yumichika flared, flinging the bundled kimono at Ikkaku, who caught it with a reflexive snatch of one hand. "I'm tired, I'm hungry, I'm _thirsty_, and _I'm filthy_!"

"Eh, yeah, well, you _are_ filthy," Ikkaku agreed, getting a fierce glare for his trouble. "Sorry, Yumichika, I wasn't careful enough of you."

It sucked his temper right out and left him merely weak with exhaustion. With a weary shake of his head he said, "Nevermind it, Ikkaku. I can look after myself. Right now, I want water, and food, and a hot, hot bath."

"Heh," Ikkaku laughed a little, amused by his priorities. "I'd say the bath comes first, Yumichika - you look like hell."

"_Oh_! How _dare_ you!" Yumichika cried, outraged. "And after I helped you in that fight!"

Ikkaku's gleeful chuckles stifled his protests and made him flush again, this time at himself for being so easy to rile.

"Here, now, brat," Ikkaku said, snagging him by the arm. "You're right. It's late and we need to rest. Come on, I'll find you a bathhouse. Maybe one of the other women there can tend your nails."

"One of the _other_ w - _Ikkaku_!" he snarled, but stumbled along with the youth regardless.

Ikkaku dragged him through the lantern-lit streets to the public bathhouse and got Yumichika safely inside, explaining everything to him in short, quick instructions.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Yumichika asked, reluctantly removing his kimono, giving Ikkaku his back.

"Because I'm not staying," Ikkaku said, deftly unwrapping the bandages.

The first touch of warm water to his healing wounds pulled Yumichika out of his shock enough to testily ask, "Oh? So you're just abandoning me here?"

Ikkaku rudely snorted, saying, "Shut up, brat. I do as I please, the same as you."

"Actually, it seems like I do as _you_ please, thank you very much!" Yumichika corrected him, wincing a little as a scab pulled loose.

"Yeah? Well, that's just the way of it," Ikkaku said, not even having the good grace to lie and deny it. "There you are, Yumichika. Wash up and go soak for awhile, I'll be back."

"Don't bother!" the younger boy flared, irritated. While it seemed he couldn't get further than five steps away from Ikkaku without someone getting badly battered, Ikkaku had no qualms leaving _him_.

Ikkaku just chuckled and said, "See you, Yumichika."

He poked his nose into the air until Ikkaku was well away, then set to washing up, muttering angrily about bald, hard-headed fools. It was hard to stay _too_ angry, however, when a bath was so delightful. The soap was harsh and stung his delicate skin, but it did a wonderful job of stripping the dirt away. He didn't even mind that it turned his long, silky black hair into a snarled mess - he was clean at last, and glad of it.

There was no one else in the bathhouse, which relieved him somewhat. If there was one thing that Yumichika hated, it was making a mistake, thank you very much, especially in front of an audience! Not to mention that he had the soaking pool all to himself, and he settled into it with a sigh of mingled pain and relief as the warm water engulfed his wounded back.

Yumichika was still soaking in the bath when Ikkaku returned, sulkily paddling his feet at the end of the pool. The youth had already washed up and rinsed to join him, and had his towel in hand as he approached, naked as birth.

"The attendant was really grouchy!" he loudly remarked, hanging his towel up out of the way. Yumichika looked away out of respect as Ikkaku eased down into the hot water next to him, so he missed that the young man had something in his left hand.

"It's because we came at the end of the day," Yumichika told him, looking over at him once the water had settled. "See? No one else is here."

"Yeah, well, money is money," Ikkaku said. With a show of being put out, he held up his hand and said, "Here, give me your hand."

"What? _No_," Yumichika immediately refused, simply from habit.

"_Give me your hand_, I said!" Ikkaku shouted, wiggling his fingers. When Yumichika reluctantly lay his own in Ikkaku's palm, the youth seized his fingers and spread them. With a look of concentrated effort on his face, he produced a thin sliver of pumice stone and - much to Yumichika's blank shock - began to smooth the other boy's ragged nails with it.

"Ikkaku..."

"What?" he asked, peering at the nail and smoothing down a place that didn't quite match. "You were complaining so much about it. I got tired of hearing you."

"You shouldn't have that in here," Yumichika whispered, because there was no way he'd say what he was really thinking - which was a heartfelt thank you. Never in a billion years would he have imagined hot-headed and impatient Madarame Ikkaku capable of thinking up such a solution, let alone being kind and gentle enough to put it into action himself.

"Shut up, I said," Ikkaku told him, an old chant by now. "Now you don't have to cry about your nails anymore. You can actually act like a man."

Yumichika just smiled, warmed to his soul in a way that the bath water had no bearing on. He'd been attended by anxious servants, bathed and pampered by people living in fear of his father's wrath, but never once had he felt as cared for as he did having rough, rude Ikkaku so meticulously tending his nails. The youth's concentration had grown to the point that he stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, which caused Yumichika to stifle a giggle.

Ikkaku's grey eyes cut up to his, but then he grinned, pleased that his surprise had lifted Yumichika's spirits.

"Stop being so unhappy, brat," he said, finishing his painstaking work on Yumichika's right hand after a long, focused silence. "Things aren't so bad as all that. _I'll take care of you_, I said. You need that. It's all you know."

"I'm not so very helpless, Ikkaku," Yumichika told him, offering his left hand, which the youth took without protest.

"If you say so," he absently answered, absorbed in his work. He actually seemed to be enjoying himself, but it was a challenge that would appeal to someone as competitive as Ikkaku, getting all of the nails to be uniform and perfect.

"I'll do yours after," Yumichika offered, feeling generous.

"Nah. Ragged nails are manly. I'll keep mine."

"Dolt."

"Brat."

Ikkaku shot him a look that kept him quiet, and when he was done he held the sliver of pumice stone out to Yumichika and said, "Keep it, so I won't have to hear you cry anymore."

Yumichika took it, intending to keep it, but only part of that was due to the fact that he had soft, easily-worn nails. Mostly he would keep it because it was the first gift ever given to him that had any real meaning or intent behind it.

"Thank you, Ikkaku," he said, stifling a smile when the youth beamed at him, pleased and not ashamed to show it.

"You're welcome," Ikkaku replied. "Come on, let's get some food and _sake_."

"_Sake_? Oh, I can't..."

"You _will_," Ikkaku said, his glare and tone just _daring_ Yumichika to nay-say him. "_Come on_, I said!"

He stood up in a flood of water, his bare feet slapping wetly on the floor all the way to his towel. He held out Yumichika's, waiting for him to get out.

"Don't look," the younger boy said, oddly uneasy about his smaller body. He wasn't strung with ropey muscle like Ikkaku. His limbs didn't hold the promise of greater height or mass - not that he wanted them, they wouldn't be beautiful on him and he had no desire to change when he was perfect just as he was. But he didn't want Ikkaku thinking him weak and small, not when Ikkaku himself was strong with the surety that he'd get even stronger, even taller.

"_Heh_? _You_ keep insisting you aren't a girl, Yumichika! Why should I care what you look like?!" Ikkaku shouted at him, shaking the towel for emphasis. "_Come on_! I get grouchy when I'm hungry!"

"Clearly," Yumichika breathed, offended. Screwing up his dignity, he rose and snatched his towel in one fluid movement that was fast enough to mostly hide his nudity. He needn't have bothered, however; Ikkaku had looked away.

"Thank you."

"Shut up!" Ikkaku growled. "You keep saying that, it's making me uneasy. It isn't like you to be grateful."

"Then maybe I'm trying to change?"

_That_ got Ikkaku's grey eyes to swing back to him, narrow with suspicion and curiosity.

"Not too much," he abruptly said, and trudged off to get his clothes. "I'll get dressed first, brat. Then you'll have the dressing room all to yourself."

Yumichika watched him go, sauntering proudly off like he was king of the world without a care, bald head and bare bottom and all.

'_Not too much_...'

"I'm blushing," Yumichika murmured, pressing his hands to his warm cheeks, realizing with a start that he was smiling. Could it be that he finally had...a friend?

He bounded after, catching up as Ikkaku was sliding his garment on.

"Eh? What's your hurry? I'm not done yet."

"It's okay," Yumichika told him, his cheeks still pink. "You won't laugh at me."

"Heh?" Ikkaku asked, confused. "Why would I laugh at you?"

Yumichika shimmied out of his towel, still flustered despite his resolve. Ikkaku frowned, trying to puzzle out the younger boy's change, and finally realized with a broad grin, "_Ah_!"

"Ah, what?" Yumichika asked, hurriedly trying to organize his _fundoshi_, which only made his movements clumsy and graceless as he attempted to put it on properly.

"You talk so much about yourself, I wouldn't have guessed," Ikkaku said, unaffected by the other boy's nudity. Apparently, he wasn't going to stoop to teasing or insulting Yumichika, despite all of the ample ammunition afforded him.

"Guessed _what_?" he asked, fumbling his new _juban_ on over his underclothes.

"You're _shy_." Ikkaku's voice dripped with gleeful orneriness and his grin was wide enough to make Yumichika pause, but only for a split second.

Yumichika felt safer once he had those layers on, and was able to finish with a little less tension. "It's just that...I won't ever be as tall as you're going to get. I won't ever fill out like you."

"So?" Ikkaku's frown returned. "What's that matter? You're Yumichika...well, _now_ you are. I'm Ikkaku and I've always been. Why would you be my size? You'd look funny anyway. You're fine as you are."

"It's just that people expect things," Yumichika softly said, tying his ties, smoothing his folds. "I _know_ I'm beautiful. I just dislike having people look at me and think I should be some other way."

"Ah, I see," Ikkaku said, nodding sagely. "It's because you're shy."

"I'm the smallest of all my brothers."

"And also the youngest, yeah?" Ikkaku pointed out. "Don't worry, Yumichika, no one will tease you now. And if they do, they're wrong and you should pound them. But let me have the first go, will you?"

"As if I could stop you," Yumichika said, smiling at the way Ikkaku lit up at even the idea of a fight. "I'm sure we'll get into plenty of fights. But I can handle them. I was training to join the Stealth Force, you know."

"_Eh_? Stealth Force? Hm, interesting..."

The gleam in his grey eyes was calculating and assessing, transferring his knowledge of Yumichika to his knowledge of the Stealth Force.

"_No_," Yumichika said, deciding to be preemptive.

"_Heh_?!"

"_No_, we're not going to fight," Yumichika firmly told him. "We're going to go eat and find a place to sleep."

"We're not going to fight _right now_," Ikkaku amended, grinning his wide grin. "But we _are_ going to fight."

Yumichika smiled at him, realizing that he was absolutely serious and that he had no misgivings at all due to Yumichika's understated size.

"Yes," he agreed, sliding his sword through his sash, finished with dressing. "We _are_ going to fight, Madarame Ikkaku."

And hearing the youth's raspy, rough chuckle was certainly worth every effort that fight would take him, because Yumichika finally, _finally _had a friend.


	3. Chapter 3

The kimono, it turned out, was worth more than even Ikkaku expected, and made them a tidy sum that seemed to impress the brash, bald boy. Having spent more in one go at a festival, Yumichika could not agree, but wisely kept his comments to himself.

"So, how will I earn my keep?" Yumichika asked him, sitting outside beneath the shade of a small street vendor's stall, dancing his _taiyaki_ from hand to hand so that it would cool.

Ikkaku bit right into his, cursed fluidly when he burned his tongue, then went right ahead and wolfed half of it anyway, just to prove that he could.

"Ah, Ikkaku, your manners are so poor," Yumichika chided him, watching Ikkaku from the corner of his eye. "It isn't beautiful to bolt your food down like that. How on earth can you taste it?"

"How _could_, I, eh?" Ikkaku asked, scowling. "Hot as hell and burning me! You want to earn your keep, Yumichika, you think of a way to cook things _cold_."

The smaller boy laughed, breaking his sweet cake in half and taking a dainty nibble. "So, what do you _do_, Madarame Ikkaku? When you aren't 'pounding people', that is."

"Sometimes I help girlie-boys in alleys, but so far that's not turned out too well," Ikkaku darkly told him, then grudgingly accepted the other half of the cake when Yumichika wordlessly held it out to him, eating it with more care. "Aside from fighting? I gamble sometimes. But mostly I just get into fights. Ah, but I forgot about that place."

"Which place?" Yumichika asked, curious about him. Ikkaku did a lot of boasting, and a fair share of teasing, but when it came to true substance about himself and his life, he was truly reserved. Yumichika felt it was more force of habit than anything...or, he liked to think so, at least.

"Well, there's this place," Ikkaku continued, looking uncomfortable and the teeniest bit defensive. "I worked there for awhile..." He turned his assessing grey eyes on Yumichika and his frown turned thoughtful. "Actually, we could hide you there."

"What? Hide me?" Yumichika asked, lost. "Ikkaku, what are you talking about? Hide me _where_?"

"Eh, never mind me telling you," Ikkaku decided, lifting his chin in an unconscious gesture of stubborn pride. "We'll just go there. That father of yours, is he a stickler for appearances?"

"Oh, you have no _idea_," Yumichika laughed, brushing crumbs off of the front of his kimono as he stood.

"Good," Ikkaku said, the word short and clipped. "Then even better. There's no chance he'll find you this way."

Mystified, Yumichika followed after him nonetheless, still smiling with every recollection of Ikkaku defending him against his father's investigators, of Ikkaku filing his nails with such concentrated kindness. He'd never had anyone remotely close to his age that wasn't either a servant or a member of his immediate family. It was novel to be friends with someone like Ikkaku, and even though they'd only known each other a short time, Yumichika just felt with surety that there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for Madarame Ikkaku.

Until they arrived at their destination some few days later.

"Oh, absolutely _not_!"

"Eh? What is it?" Ikkaku asked, baring his white teeth in a scowl. "What _is_ it, I said?!"

"Ikkaku!" Yumichika hissed, and rounded on him with his dainty hands on his slender hips. "_This is a whorehouse_!"

Bright spots of color bloomed on Ikkaku's cheeks, but the resolute youth held his ground. "Yeah, that's right. And where's the last place your father would think to look for you, Yumichika?"

He opened his mouth to fire off a scathing retort, then closed it, thoughtful.

"I'm too young to do anything that goes on in there," he finally said, mulling it over.

"Not all of the work is on your back, Yumichika," Ikkaku said with the air of one who well knew it. He tapped his sword restlessly against his shoulder and gave the huge, quiet house a grim smile. "When I was young, I hauled water for the baths, cut wood for the fires. I wasn't big enough then to toss out the bad patrons but it didn't keep me from trying."

"They know you here, then?" Yumichika asked, wondering at the sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Yeah, some of them," Ikkaku said with a shrug. "I knew some of the acolytes when they were bathhouse girls. They probably remember me..."

Yumichika suspiciously watched him fidget, a frown flitting over the soft curve of his mouth.

"What?" Ikkaku asked. "_What, I said_?! Stop looking at me like that, Yumichika! I'm a man, aren't I?"

"Hardly," Yumichika scoffed, turning his nose up, pleased when Ikkaku growled his direction, fuming. He was spared Ikkaku's irate response by someone opening the gate for the day. The slender young maid took one look at the pair of them and started to say, "We'll be ready for service in half an hour's time, if..."

She trailed off, her light blue eyes landing on Ikkaku.

"Oh!"

"Yo, Maiko," Ikkaku said, covering his unease with familiarity. "You're still here?"

"_Ikkaku_!"

Yumichika watched in shocked dismay as that slip of a girl flung herself at Ikkaku, laughing in overjoyed surprise.

"Ikkaku! We didn't think you'd come back! Where've you been so long?"

Ikkaku caught her with obvious discomfort, but gamely returned her embrace, scowling at Yumichika when he raised one beautifully winged eyebrow at the exchange.

"Er...Maiko, I have a problem," Ikkaku said.

"I'd hardly qualify myself as a _problem_, Madarame," Yumichika said, retreating behind haughty coldness in the face of such emotional excess.

"Oh! Pardon me! I am so sorry!" the girl cried, releasing Ikkaku to bow towards Yumichika, the loose bun of her hair unraveling to spill wine-red tendrils over her shoulder. "I am Head Attendant Opunbara Maiko - I wish you welcome to the Open Rose."

"Is the old lady still alive?" Ikkaku asked, interrupting their exchange and actually taking a step between them to prevent Maiko from looking too closely at Yumichika.

"Oh, of course!" Maiko laughed, covering her mouth with one small hand. "Would you like an audience? She's in the garden. I'll take you, I know she'll see you. She always did have a soft spot for you, Ikkaku."

"Hey, get someone to take my friend, here, to the kitchen, eh?" Ikkaku asked, relaxing a little as Maiko closed the gate behind them. "Some food and water, a little rest, yeah?"

He flipped a coin her way and she nodded vigorously, smiling from ear to ear.

"Just one moment, I'll send someone for you," she promised, and tugged on Ikkaku's arm. "Just wait here!"

"As if I have a choice?" Yumichika asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He glared at Ikkaku, who merely glared back, and watched the pair of them vanish across a small footbridge into a latticework path. "What a horrible place..."

Actually, it wasn't _terrible_, it just wasn't anything like his home. Considering its position in the districts and its purpose, it was a respectably well-tended house. The gardens were meticulously kept and the pond was clear, brimming with fish. There were lazy feline house guardians lounging here and there on sunlit patches of stone, purring and bathing. Though shuttered, the house had a lived-in and loved air about it, and the paint was pristine.

"Ah! Hello! Forgive me, I don't know your name! Hello!"

He glanced over one shoulder to find a young boy barreling at him, a boy who skittered to a graceless stop in order to bow.

"Hello," he said again, panting. "Miss Maiko sent me! I'm Lowest Attendant Opunbara Katsuo! I am pleased to serve you!"

"Hmph. Do you all take the House as your surname?" Yumichika asked.

"Ah..._yes_!" the child said, bowing again. "Please follow me!"

"Don't you want to know my name?" Yumichika asked, amused.

"No!" Katsuo said, surprising him. "Senior Ikkaku said not to question you until Mistress allows you to stay!"

"Oh, _did he_?"

Katsuo's eager smile turned into a pained wince at the fury on Yumichika's face, but the child gamely said, "Please come with me! There is breakfast waiting for you, and a soft place to sit."

There was nothing for it, then. His only other option was to walk out of the gate, leaving behind virtually everything he had. Sighing, he followed the quick little boy back through what was clearly the servants' entrance and into an enormous kitchen where several people were already hard at work.

"Here, please sit," Katsuo offered, gesturing at a small, rough table meant for the staff. There was a soft cushion, however, and Yumichika lowered himself to it with graceful relief.

Katsuo poured tea for him, his small hands trembling a little and his anxious eyes on Yumichika.

"It's not much, but it's all we had yet this morning," the boy said by way of explanation, pushing a small bowl of rice and a side dish towards him. "The cooks got a late start today, because of some trouble."

"Trouble? What kind of trouble?" Yumichika asked, picking at the food despite his hunger. He hoped that Ikkaku was getting something to eat, too, then angrily rescinded that with a wish for the youth's discomfort. "That Ikkaku! I should have fought him on this!"

"Senior Ikkaku is your friend, isn't he?" Katsuo asked, settling back on his heels far enough away to avoid being struck, just in case.

"_No_, he isn't my _friend_!" Yumichika denied, fuming. "He's an insufferable, overbearing, bullying _idiot_!

Katsuo clearly didn't know what to make of it, and his confusion was evident on his round, young face. Instead of dwelling on it, he just smiled and said, "Miss Maiko is happy he's back! I've heard stories about Senior Ikkaku! I think you both will be welcome here!"

"Oh? Stories?" Yumichika echoed, intrigued out of his anger. "What kind of stories?"

"Eh...s...stories," Katsuo weakly offered, trying to backpedal.

"_Eh_?" Yumichika leaned closer to him, giving him a terrifying smile. "Tell me these _stories_, Katsuo, while I eat."

"I...I shouldn't..."

"I'm not hungry," Yumichika declared, putting his _hashi _down and turning his face away. "Ah, goodness! How angry Ikkaku will be when he sees I've not eaten!"

"Oh! No! No! Please," Katsuo hastened to say, scooting a little closer to entreat Yumichika, who was child enough to be gratified by it. "Please, eat! I will tell you one story, even if it's not mine to tell."

Yumichika relented with a pleased smile and took up his _hashi _again. He lifted a bite of rice to his lips, gave Katsuo an expectant look, and only began to eat once the child began to speak.

"Miss...Miss Maiko said when she was younger," the little boy said, wringing his hands in front of him as he tried to recall the details of what he'd been told. "She said that she cried when she came here, because she didn't know anyone and she was afraid of what she would be made to do. She said that Senior Ikkaku saw her hiding by the bathhouse when he was bringing the water, and he told her not to cry...He picked her up and swung her around until she laughed, and then he carried her on his shoulders to pick blossoms off of the trees. He got in trouble with the Mistress for not doing his work, but he said it was worth it, just for her smile..."

Yumichika put the _hashi_ down again, this time with a true lack of appetite.

"He's a good man!" Katsuo said, nodding emphatically. "He took care of Miss Maiko! He took care of all kinds of people, here, even if he wasn't much older than us! Miss Maiko said that she always wanted to marry Senior Ikkaku when she grew up, but that he left last year without a word. Maybe, maybe now that he's back - "

"No more stories, Katsuo," Yumichika softly said. "I'm not hungry anymore."

The child nearly fainted from worry, but eventually resigned himself to it once no amount of begging or cajoling could get Yumichika to eat.

He just _couldn't_, not thinking about Ikkaku with that little Maiko girl on his arm. _Would_ he be interested in her now, now that he was a year older, a year stronger, and more inclined to find females fascinating than he might've been a year ago? Yumichika's own elder brothers had grown interested in women at about fifteen years of age, and hadn't Ikkaku said that's how old he thought he might be?

"I shouldn't have come here," Yumichika whispered to himself, distraught, but unsure _why_. Only that the thought of Ikkaku with Maiko - with _anyone_ - seemed to fill him with mingled anger and fear. He'd only just found a friend...would he lose him just as quickly to something he had no control over?

"Eh? Shouldn't have come here? Why's that, Yumichika?" Ikkaku asked, stomping into the kitchen with a glare. "Why aren't you eating, brat? Making everyone go to trouble for you, _heh_!"

"I didn't ask them to," Yumichika said with mild contempt that only deepened Ikkaku's scowl. "Why are you back so quickly?"

"She was busy," Ikkaku said, plopping down on the cushion next to Yumichika and taking up the _hashi_ to eat his rejected food. "She said you could stay, though. She'll see you later. I told her you weren't for coin-service, so don't worry."

"As if I would worry," Yumichika flared, refusing to look at him. "Why, what an ugly place this is! Letting any ugly girl become an acolyte!"

Ikkaku snorted and meanly told him, "What do you mean, you're not a _girl_."

"How dare you!" Yumichika gasped, but reigned in his temper when he realized that Katsuo was avidly watching their exchange. "That wasn't what I meant and you know it!"

"Shut up, Yumichika," Ikkaku told him, shoving the half-empty bowl his way in a clear order for him to eat. "Why are you so angry, eh?"

"I'm angry because I'm in a _whorehouse_!" he hissed with enough venom that the cooks glanced over at him with angry disapproval. He took a breath to calm himself and said in a lower tone. "What, pray tell, do _you_ intend to do, Madarame Ikkaku? Spend my coin on whores like Maiko?"

"Nah, not Maiko, she's not for sale," Ikkaku said, shrugging in that infuriating way of his. "Besides, I don't have to pay here."

"Oh!" Yumichika drew up, turning away from him, once more filled with that confusing and unwelcome anger.

"Stop being angry and eat this!" Ikkaku loudly told him. "_Stop being angry_, I said! What's wrong with you, brat? What's it matter what I do? I'll put your money somewhere safe, Yumichika. I don't need to rob you, remember?"

"Stop being so vulgar," Yumichika told him, trying to get a reign on his emotions. But just the thought of Ikkaku forming a bond with one of those girls...What would he do? He had no one else, and he couldn't go home again. He'd be alone in an ugly and hostile place with no working-class skills and no idea what to do. Yet Ikkaku - the boy who'd fought to protect him, the boy who'd gotten him a file just to mollify him - _Ikkaku _was willing to deposit him here like so much dirty laundry and _what_? Walk away? Forget him? Marry Maiko? "_Ugh_! _How infuriating_!"

Surprisingly, Ikkaku roughly ruffled his hair and told him, "You'll be okay, Yumichika, I promise. I'll take care of you, I said. Did you think I would leave you? _Heh_! As if I would do that to someone as helpless as _you_! Besides, she said you could only stay if _I_ did, so that's that."

Startled, Yumichika looked back at him, his anger evaporating when his eyes met Ikkaku's.

"See? I'm taking care of you," Ikkaku smugly said, pleased with himself out of proportion. His cocky conceit coaxed a reluctant smile to Yumichika's face, but it was grounded in a fair amount of relief that Ikkaku wasn't going to leave him all alone here.

Well, not _yet_ anyway.

"Now _eat_, I said!" Ikkaku ordered, giving the bowl a push. "And stop being so angry, brat! I told her you're _tender_, so you won't be worked rough."

Yumichika took up the bowl then, and delicately ate a few bites, trying to force down the bubbling upset so that he could swallow. It was funny, though, how comforting he found the heat of Ikkaku's body, how reassuring he found the pleasant, faint scent of his skin. He'd grown used to it since he'd met Ikkaku. After all, they'd slept piled together since that first night, sometimes for safety, sometimes for warmth, and sometimes because Yumichika found some way to complain until Ikkaku relented and allowed it. That wouldn't happen anymore, not now...

"Hmph. Good," Ikkaku said, satisfied that Yumichika had eaten at least a little bit. "Ah, Katsuo. Maiko says you're new here, eh?"

"Y...yes, Senior Ikkaku!" the boy cried, hastily inclining his head in a bow. "Miss Maiko speaks highly of you!"

"Ah, no, Katsuo," Yumichika said, forestalling him. "No stories for Ikkaku, if you please. He doesn't need anything else making his bald head bigger."

"_Hey_!" Ikkaku shouted, his raspy voice rising to a volume that made little Katsuo flinch. "_I'm not bald_!"

"And I'm not beautiful," Yumichika murmured, pleased when Ikkaku merely glared at him and called him a brat.

"Come on," Ikkaku said, standing with unconscious grace and dragging Yumichika up with him. "I'll get you settled and you can pout all you want."

Yumichika didn't have any choice but to follow him, considering that Ikkaku hauled him off by the arm. Katsuo anxiously shadowed them, but Ikkaku curtly told him to go away, and the boy fell back, crestfallen.

Ikkaku took him to a large barracks set beyond the screen of a tree grove. It was bustling with people hastening too and fro, all of them in identical, muted, dark dress with simple obi in the pattern of a blooming rose. They were all, Yumichika noted with growing ire, _female_.

"Ikkaku!"

"Yeah, I know," the youth said, pulling him to a stop at the door where a rather irate man was lounging with a pipe. "It can't be helped, Yumichika. I told her I was hiding you, and she said you could stay here."

"Why with the women?" Yumichika asked, appalled.

"Because there's always a guard on this door," Ikkaku told him, an answer that quieted Yumichika's protests. "Don't worry, brat, they know me here - I can come and go as I please."

"Ikkaku," Yumichika faintly said, uncertain that this would all work. "I...How do you know he won't find me here? How do you expect me...expect me to be a _servant_?"

"Eh? You too good for it?" Ikkaku asked, glaring down at him from the bottoms of his catlike eyes. "_Eh_?"

"No, it isn't that," Yumichika said, frustrated. "_I don't know how_!"

Ikkaku softened a little and roughed his hair, telling him, "You'll learn, Yumichika. It's not so hard. Just do your best. As for your father - as long as he's sending men out to search the districts for a boy on the run, they won't notice another girl in a whorehouse, no matter how pretty she is."

_Pretty_? Yumichika blushed, pleased by the compliment despite the fact that he knew Ikkaku had paid it simply to gain his compliance. As far as ploys went, it was obvious, yet highly effective.

"Here, come on," Ikkaku said, leading him past the grudging guard and into the interior, where a series of private cells gave way to a common area full of rolled and stacked futons. "_Hey, Maiko_!_ Where are you, eh_?!"

"Here!" Maiko called, waving them over. She stood, flushed and smiling, and said, "Ayasegawa Yumichika, here is your bedding and a place for your belongings."

She indicated the meager bedding rolled up at her feet, and pointed at a space in a worn wooden shelving unit.

"Hmph. Is it clean?" Yumichika asked, feeling his hostility rise when Maiko beamed in Ikkaku's direction.

"_Yumichika_!" Ikkaku shouted, and thumped him, careful of his back. "It's fine, thank you, Maiko. Be grateful, brat!"

"Thank you, Senior Maiko," Yumichika mildly said, smirking as he delivered the subtle insult couched in his honorific. "I will learn as well as you can teach..."

She smiled at him, damn her, and said, "Yumichika, you're so well-spoken! It seems a waste to put you as a bathhouse attendant."

"B...bathhouse?" Yumichika faintly echoed, dismayed by the wolfish glee that suddenly suffused Ikkaku's lean face. "I beg your pardon?"

"Ah, every new girl starts out there," Maiko told him, then whispered conspiratorially, "_Although I understand that you're...well...special_..."

Yumichika bared his teeth in a pained smile and ground out, "You have _no_ idea..."

"Heh heh, have fun, Yumichika," Ikkaku told him, enjoying his discomfort. "By the way, give me your sword."

"What? _No_!"

"_Give it to me, I said_!" Ikkaku yelled, holding out his hand for it. "You can't carry it around here and someone will steal it! I'll keep it safe for you, I promise!"

Reluctant though he was, Yumichika relented and turned it over, watching with pained sorrow as Ikkaku slid the weapon through his sash next to his own sword.

"If you are comfortable enough, Yumichika, I'll have you change and begin your duties," Maiko said, still smiling. Yumichika unkindly wondered if her stupid face had another expression. "We have three uniforms each, and do laundry on the last day of the week. Mark yours somehow so they don't get lost, okay?"

"Yes," Yumichika said, taking up the clothing she offered. The material was much finer than he expected, but then again this House had its own appearances to keep up. Shabbily clad servants gave a wrong impression, after all. "Excuse me, do you mind? I dislike having an audience."

"Here, we have a privacy room," Maiko said, leading him to a small cell with a screen. "You can change in here."

Yumichika did so, taking his time to put off the inevitable separation. Once he was settled, he knew that Ikkaku would be off for his own business, and he dreaded the idea of being away from him.

He folded the pinwheel kimono up carefully, trying not wrinkle it too badly, and carried the lot of it out...

To find that Ikkaku had already gone.

"Oh? All done?" Maiko asked, waiting for him to put his things away in his cubicle space. "Ikkaku said to tell you he'd see you for your evening meal. Are you ready?"

Yumichika willed away the distress he felt, and composed himself before he turned to face her. Smiling slightly, he said in a small voice, "As ready as I'll ever be."

Bathhouse dtuy turned out to be genteelly greeting the House's male patrons who came to refresh themselves either before or after their exertions with the Open Rose's variety of workers. It was staffed by a mixture of male and female servants, none of whom were expected to attend the patrons in any intimate capacity unless the lure of a tip was too great to resist. Yumichika himself, being so young, was given the only position where such a request was unable to be made with any measure of discretion, and he was grateful once he realized that most of the patrons thought he was a young girl.

Still, it was mind-numbing work for a boy used to exerting himself in training and otherwise idling about. Providing amenities and greetings didn't exactly require any intelligence, which left his voracious mind with far too little to do. Unfortunately, it chose to dwell on Ikkaku and what _he_ could possibly be up to...

"Hey, you there! Yumichika, right?"

"Eh?" He glanced up, shocked to see the bountiful presence of a grown woman standing in the doorway. "Ah! Madam! I am afraid you have the wrong bathhouse! We provide separate facilities for - "

She laughed, and he cut off abruptly, scrutinizing her. She wasn't in the bloom of youth, but she was a young woman, and a very handsome one at that. She watched him with sparkling blue eyes, smoke drifting from between the curve of her full red lips. When she stepped towards him, all of her ample curves moved beneath the loose layer of her messily-donned kimono. She bent down to inspect him and he blushed to the roots of his hair when he saw straight down the cleft of her breasts to her white navel.

"Yeah, you must be Yumichika," she said, and gave another husky laugh. "Ikkaku said that you were soft. He didn't mention how lovely you are."

"Er...thank you..." he said, looking away.

She idly combed her free fingers through the tangled locks of her black hair and lifted her pipe to her lips with the other, taking a meditative pull of smoke.

"Does anyone know you're a boy?" she asked. Her overbearing, familiar way of speaking to him reminded Yumichika of Ikkaku a little bit, and he realized that she must be the "old lady" that his brash friend had spoken of.

"Maiko," he answered, uncertain how to address her.

"Hmph. Let's keep it that way," she ordered, blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Ikkaku, he's your friend, isn't he?"

"Yes, madam," Yumichika said, still gazing at the wall until she straightened. She looked down at him, measuring him, thoughts moiling in her blue eyes.

"Yes, madam, he says," she murmured, smirking. "Ikkaku, he's something, isn't he?"

Yumichika dared to look at her and he didn't like what he saw in her expression. He wasn't certain what it was, but it seemed too close to what he felt about Maiko to make him comfortable.

"Yes, he's something," he answered.

"Why does he protect you, eh?" she asked, nudging his knee with her bare toe. She looked like she'd just rolled out of bed, like she didn't care if anyone saw her half-naked and unkempt.

"Because he wants to," Yumichika said, the only answer he could give because he didn't have he first clue why Ikkaku had decided to protect him. It seemed nothing more than a whim, honestly. A whim turned to duty somehow, and an unhappy duty at that... "And Ikkaku does exactly as he pleases."

She chuckled, her eyes narrowing with calculation.

"While you're in my house, Yumichika," she told him, confirming that she was, indeed, the proprietress of the Open Rose. "You're mine, do you understand? Everything in this house is mine."

"Including Ikkaku?" Yumichika dared, quailing to see the possessive flare in her blue eyes.

"_Especially_ Ikkaku," she purred, smiling unpleasantly. "I never thought he'd come back, let alone come back needing a favor. Thank you, Yumichika, for putting him in my debt."

He stared at her with stunned horror, coming to his feet in an abortive attempt to go find Ikkaku.

"_Sit_," she ordered, and waited until he'd done so. "You said yourself, he does exactly what he wants to do. However he chooses to pay his debt, remember that it's the way he _chooses_."

Yumichika felt sick to his stomach, ill to think that he'd somehow forced Ikkaku to return to a place and become indebted to someone who was so obviously willing to take advantage of him.

"Like all of the people in this house, Yumichika," she said, reaching out to smooth his hair. "You'll call me _Mother_. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he said, nearly choking on his anger, on his resentment. "I understand."

"Yes, I understand _what_?"

"Yes, I understand, _Mother_," he bit out, glaring at her.

She only laughed again, and patted his cheek.

"Be a good girl," she murmured, smirking when temper flared in his eyes. "As long as we're both getting what we want, I have no reason to abuse you."

Yumichika stared up at her so steadily that she lost her smirk.

"I swear to you, if you make him do anything against his will," Yumichika softly said. "I will leave this House and let you bear the consequences. Whatever his reasons, Ikkaku considers me worth protecting, and I doubt that he would take it kindly were you to _misplace_ me in such a way."

"Ah, so young to be making such threats!" she said, but sounded oddly pleased. "We neither of us can force him to do anything, can we, Yumichika? If he comes to me, then he comes as he pleases. I'll take care of you as long as he's here, kid. If he goes...well, if he goes, then you'll be put to _real_ work."

And with that, she turned in a swirl of loose clothing and strode out the way she'd come, leaving Yumichika trembling faintly in mingled anger and fear.

The unease plagued him through the day, and peaked during the evening meal he took with the other lower servants in their communal hall. He tried to take his meal alone, hoping that Ikkaku would show up as he'd promised, but Maiko and Katsuo insisted on sitting with him.

"Miss Maiko," he finally brought himself to say, too worried to keep silent. "I thought you said that Ikkaku would join me?"

"Oh, well..." Maiko looked uncomfortable suddenly, and deeply unhappy. "He, uhm. He decided to take his evening meal with the Mistress."

Yumichika flinched, thinking of that voluptuous woman and her hungry, possessive eyes. Ikkaku might not be a man grown yet, but there was enough about him to entice a woman who might otherwise be jaded to all else.

"He said he's going to take a position on the guard," Maiko reluctantly added, apparently sharing his dismay. "So he'll probably be spending most of his time with her..."

Yumichika silently gave his food to Katsuo, who was young enough to put it away with gusto.

"You have such pretty hands, Yumichika," Maiko softly said, almost consolingly. Her blue eyes were kind when Yumichika met them and she smiled a little. "And such nice nails! It's a good thing that she didn't put you to manual labor. It would be an awful waste. How do you keep them so nice?"

"Ik...I file them," Yumichika quietly told her. In a hesitant gesture of truce, he offered, "I can file yours, if you like?"

She nodded with an eagerness that shamed him. They were united in a common interest, at least, even if it was one loud, cocky, infernally frustrating and wonderful bald idiot named Madarame Ikkaku.

"Yes, I'd like that..."

It felt alien and strange to end the evening in such a large space with so many strangers around him. He retired with Maiko and Katsuo to unroll their futons next to each other, and they spent a little while tending each others nails in cautious conversation, mostly listening to Katsuo's animated chatter. There were other boys in the barracks, Yumichika realized, but all of them were less than seven years old - too young to go to the men's barracks where life was less gentle.

Eventually, though, the lamps were put out and darkness blanketed the room.

Yumichika lay in his borrowed bed, staring at the darkness until the contours of the ceiling began to take shape as his eyes adjusted. He hadn't felt homesick or lonely since leaving his own house, but he felt now, here, surrounded by strangers in a place that didn't feel welcoming. He felt young and out of his element, beyond his resources, and _vulnerable_ in ways that terrified him.

He was so lost in his inner turmoil that he nearly shrieked when someone pulled his blankets off.

Sitting up in a flurry of startled anger, he struck out at whoever it was and nearly swallowed his tongue when his wrist was caught in a familiar, rough grip.

"Hey, stop it!" Ikkaku lowly ordered, and gave him a shake. "_Stop it, I said_! Are you trying to wake everyone, brat? Move over!"

"Ikkaku?" he whispered, weak with relief. He moved over as far as he could on the small futon, shifting as Ikkaku slid in with him. "What are you doing here?"

"Coming to sleep, stupid!" Ikkaku whispered, flopping back to get comfortable. "You haven't been by yourself this whole time, I thought you would feel better if I was here."

Yumichika could have hugged him, his relief was so vast. Instead, he settled at Ikkaku's side and cautiously draped over him, relaxing when the boy didn't protest.

"Hey, Yumichika," Ikkaku whispered, turning a little to face him in the darkness. "Are you okay?"

Yumichika shied a little, hiding his face beneath Ikkaku's chin. "I don't like it here," he admitted. "That Mistress...she's scary."

Ikkaku's soft chuckle rumbled through him, but the larger youth only said, "Nah, she's not so scary. She's just a perverted old lady is all, brat. Don't let her get to you."

"It's not _me_ I'm worried about," Yumichika told him, thinking of what she'd said. "Ikkaku...What did you agree to in order to keep me here?"

"Eh? What's this, now? You worried for me?" Ikkaku asked. "Unlike you, brat Prince, _I_ can take care of myself."

"Ikkaku," Yumichika said, brushing aside his teasing. He lifted his head and met Ikkaku's eyes, faint glimmers of silver in the gloom. "Neither one of us came here to be whores."

Ikkaku blinked, then grinned and gave him a rough squeeze. "Yumichika, don't worry, I said! You know me; no one makes me do anything. No one _can_ make me do anything. You have a roof over your head, here, food, a place to sleep, clothes - be grateful, Yumichika, yeah?"

"I am grateful," the smaller boy said, and daringly added, "I'm grateful for _you_, Madarame Ikkaku."

Ikkaku loosed a gratified chuckle and urged Yumichika to roll over so that he could curl against his back.

"Brat," he sighed, twisting Yumichika's hair up over the edge of the futon so that it wasn't in his face. "Not _too_ much, I said..."

"Don't worry, Ikkaku," Yumichika said, smiling as he relaxed, comforted by Ikkaku's nearness. "I won't change too much. I promise."

And finally, with Ikkaku curled around him protectively, safe in the circle of the youth's wiry arms, Yumichika was able to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Time passed with slow certainty in the House of Open Roses. Yumichika resigned himself to dealing with things as they stood for now, mostly because he spent his nights sharing a futon with Ikkaku, and his free time being trained by the scrappy fighter at the grounds provided for the Mistress's guards. They never spoke of the arrangement that Ikkaku had with her, but Yumichika felt in his heart that it was not one that he would approve of.

Due to his natural beauty, grace, and the nobility of his manners, he was moved from the bathhouse to the main House entrance. He was given the duty of greeting patrons at the House entrance and seeing to their comfort while they waited for their favorites. He saw all manner of men and women come to the House, and there were all manner of men and women working there. As Ikkaku once told him, no one chose to work at this House because they _wanted _to - all of them had some measure of spiritual power and required food to survive, and food meant work.

Unfortunately, working at places like the Open Rose was one of the only truly lucrative jobs in Rukongai, and the Mistress paid well in food and housing.

And it had its fair share of patronage from unexpected places - Death Gods, for example. No notables, not even Seated officers, but plenty of the rank and file moved through the doors under Yumichika's care, and he found them to be an interesting, if odd, group.

"Yumichika!" Maiko called, waving her hands from the landing to get his attention. She'd come from the rooms where the true prostitutes lived and took patrons. Unlike Yumichika and others in the Attendant and General Service rolls, those who made the money for the House got to live within its cradling walls instead of being stacked like cordwood in the barracks. "Yumichika! Ikkaku is here for you!"

"Ah! Thank you!" Yumichika said, and bowed prettily to a patron as he left. "Thank you, and please remember us!"

His relief arrived, a young lady equally as vain as he was, but without (in Yumichika's opinion) his good looks. With only a haughty nod at her, he hurried down the servants' passage to the side-court that adjoined the guards' grounds.

Ikkaku was standing in the shade of the overgrown lattice, staring out at the gardens in the distance, his back to Yumichika. He'd grown rapidly, his shoulders widening out, his limbs thickening with muscle that was more defined now, more powerful. He'd hit that time in his life when it seemed he grew everyday, and Yumichika could only watch it happen with mute envy, wishing his own willowy form would catch up just a little.

"Ikkaku? Maiko said you were here," he called, thinking that Ikkaku looked quite fine in his House garments. The dark colors suited him, as did the colorful sash at his waist, which faithfully held both his own sword as well as Yumichika's.

"Ah, Yumichika, finally," he said, turning around with a grin and sporting a black eye. It was commonplace by now - part of the Mistress's expectations of her guardsmen was _entertainment_, and her entertainment took the form of brutal, no-holds-barred fights that even nobility came to bet on. Yumichika silently deplored it, but Ikkaku got to keep his winnings, and refused to stop participating. Yumichika had stopped counting how many people he'd seriously injured, and refused to count how many he'd managed to actually _kill_, because it simply wasn't beautiful... "Here."

Ikkaku thrust his fist out, a stiff, yellowed parchment paper dangling from it. His expression was closed, guarded, and the tiniest bit uncertain.

"Oh? What's this?" Yumichika asked, taking it gently, always gratified by the little gifts Ikkaku brought him, especially when he didn't bring gifts to any of the others, not even the girls whose _services _he utilized.

Yumichika opened the envelope and found a bundle of colorful feathers inside, iridescently shimmering in the late afternoon light. "Ah! How beautiful! Ikkaku, what is this for?"

"It's been a year," Ikkaku gruffly said, and crossed his arms over his chest, looking arrogantly away. "I figured you'd have had a birthday sometime..."

"A year," Yumichika breathed, trying to remember, but the days since he'd run away flowed one into the other without distinction. He smiled a little, then laughed, which made Ikkaku look uncertainly at him. "A _year_! Ikkaku! Surely, after all of this time, he's stopped looking! We can _leave_!"

"Eh? Leave? And go where?" Ikkaku asked, bewildered. "We don't have to go anywhere! You like what you do; you seem happy, brat. Besides, I get to fight all of the time - "

"What? _No_, Ikkaku! This wasn't supposed to be forever," Yumichika desperately said, moving to grasp Ikkaku's arm, searching his face for anything other than defensive discomfort. "I didn't agree to come here to _stay_! It was only for a little while! He won't be looking for me anymore!"

"Yumichika," Ikkaku said, relenting a little. He clasped Yumichika's upper arms in his strong hands and looked down at his upturned face with a mixture of reluctance and sadness. "You're _safe_ here. You don't go hungry, you don't go thirsty...Why would you want to leave?"

"Because she's taking something from you that you can't get _back_!" Yumichika harshly whispered, his fingers clenching on the envelope. "Ikkaku...Let's just leave. You and I together, tonight, _now_!"

"_Ikkaku_!"

Yumichika started when he heard the Mistress's voice ring out from the training grounds. Ikkaku's hands tightened on his arms in a brief, reassuring squeeze, and then he dropped them altogether, leaving Yumichika adrift.

"I won't take you where he can find you," Ikkaku told him. "I won't do it, I said. We'll stay here, Yumichika, where you can be happy."

"But I'm _not_," Yumichika whispered, making him flinch.

"Ikkaku?"

"_Go_," Yumichika harshly told him, shoving him away because he didn't like the way she was watching them, didn't like the angry heat in her eyes. "Go away, Madarame Ikkaku!"

Ikkaku tipped his head back, giving himself even more height that in no way matched the sheer force of his presence. He seemed unhappy, but whether it was with Yumichika or the Mistress, the smaller boy didn't know.

"Don't be sad, Yumichika," Ikkaku told him, grinning suddenly. His raspy voice had deepened even more since they'd first met, taking on the tones of the man he would too soon become. "_Don't be sad_, I said! I told you I would take care of you, and I _am_."

"Not this way," Yumichika softly said, turning his back on him. "Your duty is filled, Madarame Ikkaku. I'm old enough to take care of myself. Maybe I'll just start taking coin for my beauty since - "

He was caught and flung around so quickly he wasn't quite sure what had happened, only that one second he'd been looking at the door, and the next he was looking up at Ikkaku's infuriated scowl.

"Don't you dare!" Ikkaku snarled, shaking him. "_Don't you dare, I said_! If I find out you've been whoring, I'll _pound you_, understand?"

Yumichika gaped at him, speechless, but his heart singing vibrantly all the same.

"You're better than that, stupid!" Ikkaku told him, giving him another shake for good measure.

"Am I interrupting something?" the Mistress asked, sauntering to a stop just behind Ikkaku, her critical blue eyes sweeping over the scene before her.

"Nothing that can't wait," Ikkaku said, shoving Yumichika away from him with a steady look that was all the warning he needed.

"I couldn't agree more," Yumichika said, rubbing his wrist where Ikkaku had grabbed him. He bowed to the Mistress and murmured, "It is my pleasure to see you, Mother."

She laughed her sultry, soft laugh but didn't reply to him. Instead, she threaded her arm through Ikkaku's and tugged him away, speaking quietly about some errand she needed to send him on.

Yumichika watched them balefully, his heart aching and tears stinging his violet eyes.

But he couldn't for the life of him understand _why_.

* * *

Ikkaku didn't come to his bed that night, and Yumichika agonized over it, knowing he'd been with the Mistress yesterday. Ikkaku sometimes came to bed quite late, and sometimes even slipped out after Yumichika was asleep, but he'd never simply not shown up at all.

But while morning brought no Ikkaku, it _did_ bring the Mistress's subtle retribution.

"Uhm, Yumichika," Katsuo said, his small features pinched now. He'd lost the last of his baby fat to a coltish awkwardness that made him dangerous around anything fragile.

"What is it, Katsuo?" Yumichika asked, rolling his futon up, tired to the bone. He worried about Ikkaku and wondered if he'd lost a fight last night, or even if he'd been killed.

"The duty roster," Katsuo said, fidgeting anxiously. "Mother changed it this morning. Y...you've been moved back to the bathhouse, Yumichika."

"What? That can't be right," Maiko said, and hurried outside to check. When she came back a few moments later, it was obvious that it _was_ right. Grimly, the pretty young girl said, "It _has_ changed, Yumichika. She's put you back in the bathhouse, in the rinse room."

"The rinse room?" Yumichika blankly echoed, shocked. Of all of the positions in the bathhouse, that of Scrubbing Attendant and Rinse Room Attendant tended to be the most dangerous, mostly because there was an expectation that the attendant was available for use at the price of a tip.

"Does Ikkaku know about this?" Maiko quietly asked, their conversation unheard over the roomful of rising ladies and children. "He surely won't approve - "

"It doesn't matter," Yumichika said, somberly thinking of what he'd said yesterday and wondering how much of it the Mistress had overheard. "I haven't seen him since yesterday."

It seemed to dismay Maiko as much as it did him, but the girl merely said, "Come on, you'd better get a good breakfast. You're going to need it."

Yumichika ate more from the fact that he required it than from any hunger he felt. Sometime in the past year he'd turned thirteen, a turning point that would've found him sent to his wife's family in order to consummate their marriage. He'd jumped from the cooking pot into the proverbial fire, though, and here he was existing in a whorehouse without anything to show for it. Well, he couldn't _exactly _say that. He'd gotten considerably stronger thanks to Ikkaku's rough training, and he'd continued his Stealth Force exercises to refine his skills. But what use was a sword he didn't carry? What use was a skill that he didn't use?

What use was a Prince in a whorehouse?

"I'll tell him as soon as I see him," Maiko promised, sending him off to the bathhouse with his supplies. "Don't worry, it's going to be okay. You're too young for anyone to pester you much."

"Thank you, Maiko," Yumichika said to her. "You don't have to tell him. But please, if you _do_ see him, ask him for my sword." If he was going to be attending in the bathhouse, the least he could do was hide his sword somewhere in the rinse room, just in case things got out of hand before the guard could arrive.

She hesitated, clearly wanting to ask what he meant to do, but Yumichika took advantage of her hesitation to head off for the bathhouse.

It was more strenuous work than any he'd had before in the House, as it was meant to be. Patron after patron filtered through, fresh and rosy from their scrubbings, ready to be thoroughly rinsed and sent to the masseur awaiting them. He made politely suggestive conversation, grateful that his age explained the lack of more obvious feminine endowments. Luckily, he hadn't hit the first blush of becoming a young man yet, and so the deception was able to continue unchanged.

"You know, you're very lovely," he was told, a soft, almost shy comment that made Yumichika smile softly.

"Ah, it's true," he agreed, sluicing water down the man's chest. It was a nice chest, as far as chests went, wide and well-formed, but not anywhere near as nice as Ikkaku's...

"You know, fate is a funny thing, isn't it?" the man asked, closing his eyes beneath the slow spill of water. "I was sent here to find something that someone had lost, and instead I find a beautiful little girl. How old are you?"

"Hm, let me see," Yumichika said, still smiling, but a slow alarm taking hold in him. He filled his jug with more hot water and began to pour it as the man stretched to offer his side. "I will be sixteen this turn," he lied, taking Ikkaku's age as his own, hoping to allay whatever suspicions the man might have. He tried to scrutinize his face, tried to see if he recognized him, but he'd never been more than passingly familiar with any of his father's men. All he saw was the face of a man he'd seen many times before coming into the House. "I won't be allowed to do paid work until the year after, unfortunately for _you_."

The man laughed, grinning to show his strong white teeth. "So many years as that? I'd have thought you closer to thirteen, maybe? Fourteen at the oldest."

"Alas, no," Yumichika sighed, smiling at his own feigned regret. "Give me your back, please."

"I'd rather give you my heart," the man offered, a twinkle in his eye.

Yumichika urged him to lie over, saying with careless ease, "You can't give me something I already own. Now hold still..."

The man obligingly offered the length of his strong, tanned back, and Yumichika began to pour. He nearly dropped the jug in shock, however, when he saw the small, delicate tattoo that graced the man's upper left shoulder.

He might not know the man's face, but he certainly knew that mark.

This man was a member of the Stealth Force, the same division that Yumichika had been training to take a position in when he'd been Prince Ichigawa Kanesuke. The same division that already claimed all of his elder brothers except the eldest - and if anyone had an accurate description of the missing Prince Kanesuke, it was the Stealth Force his father so often utilized...

"This thing which was lost," he softly said, carefully pouring water down the tight planes of the man's back. "Did you find it?"

He laughed, the deep sound echoing in the close, warm room.

"Yes, I did," he said, stretching luxuriously beneath Yumichika's ministrations. "Ah, pretty little violet eyes, how many times have you seen me come through those doors?"

"Many times," Yumichika whispered, filling the jug again. He hadn't thought anything of it, because the House made its money in regular patrons, and this man had never once given him any indication that he was anything other than a rather rich, handsome, benign, and perfectly ordinary man. "Was it here?"

"As it turns out," the man said, straightening and turning to Yumichika, his smile every bit as warm as it had been at the start. "Yumichika, do you ever wish you were someone else?"

"No," he denied, settling the jug down and kneeling beside it in a puddle of warm water, his eyes upraised to the man gazing down at him. "Why would I?"

"Because then you wouldn't have to be a servant here," the man said, absently tugging his towel back over one lean hip. "Because then all of the mistakes you've ever made, they wouldn't matter anymore. You could live in luxury, happily content all the rest of your days, pampered beyond belief in the bosom of your family."

The man leaned forward and tweaked a lock of his hair, letting it run through his fingers like silk.

"You do not know very much about my family," Yumichika whispered, his heart starting to pound. "Forgiveness, happiness, those are things I never had there. I am Ayasegawa Yumichika, and I am quite content to stay so."

"Tell me, Yumichika," the man said, leaning too close, close enough to kiss, had Yumichika any mind to. "Does anyone here know that you're not a girl?"

He forced himself to smile, forced his eyelids to lower in a way that he'd seen to be quite effective. With an impulse born of pure survival instinct, he pressed his lips to that man's in a soft, chaste kiss and asked in a breathy whisper, "Why would you think I'm _not_?"

The man sat back, assessing him with amusement, a wry smile curling his lips.

"What lengths are you willing to go to in order to escape your father, Ichigawa Kanesuke," he asked, stroking his hair again.

"If I was any such person, sir," Yumichika managed, sheer strength of will keeping his voice steady. "Then perhaps I could answer you. But since I am only myself, all I can do is say that the masseur will see you now. Thank you for your patronage, and please remember us."

He bowed his head to the wet floor, hiding his fear, surprised when the man reached down to pat his head.

"I _will_ remember you, Ayasegawa Yumichika," he said. "But, perhaps, my memory will not serve me as well as I had hoped. He will find you, pretty little violet eyes, and don't you doubt it."

He waited until the man had gone before he gained his feet, shaking so hard that he could barely walk straight. He was so visibly upset that Satoshi - on duty as the First Bathhouse Attendant - replaced him on the spot and ordered him to the barracks, promising to send someone for Ikkaku.

"No," Yumichika said, sounding so desperate that Satoshi reached out in case Yumichika was to collapse. "No, don't tell Ikkaku. If he thinks someone bothered me, there's no telling what he would do. I'm fine, I'm just shaken. Please, don't get him riled, you know how he is..."

"Unfortunately, yes," Satoshi admitted. Like everyone in the House of Open Roses, he was well acquainted with Madarame Ikkaku's quick temper and angry fists. The reputation that Ikkaku had built out in those rough districts had grown in this one, and with good reason. "Just...please, Yumichika, if there is something that upset you, allow the guards to take care of it."

"It was nothing, just...just a kiss," he lied, but it must've sounded convincing because Satoshi frowned. "It was just a silly kiss. There was no harm intended, I'm just not used to such things."

Satoshi gave him a confused look, as if he thought to question it, but only shrugged and, oddly, said, "Ah, well, if Senior Ikkaku isn't willing to risk it, far be it from anyone else. Go lie down, Yumichika. Tomorrow will be a better day."

He went in trembling haste, nearly stumbling all over himself in his fear. He _hated_ fear. Fear was ugly. Fear was hideous. Fear was unacceptable.

Fear would make Ikkaku so _ashamed_ of him.

'_Get ahold of yourself, Yumichika_!' he sternly ordered, hastening into the common room, his despairing eyes focusing on his mostly-empty cubicle. The little gifts that Ikkaku always brought him were usually in the way of sweets or small trinkets that Yumichika was able to carry in a pouch inside his clothing. All that was left in the cubicle were the feathers that Ikkaku had given him yesterday and his file, which Ikkaku still put to good use with a regularity that made Maiko vaguely jealous. '_He won't move that quickly. He'll want to take me with the least amount of fanfare possible, for appearances sake. If I leave, no one will get hurt. If I leave, _Ikkaku_ won't be killed for helping me_...'

He wasn't trembling anymore, not now. With steady hands he plucked the feathers from their envelope and tied them into his hair, looping the damp length of it at his nape before he hurriedly changed into his pinwheel kimono. The file was tied securely in a fold of his _juban _with Ikkaku's other gifts, and the clothing of the House he put neatly away.

"Ah! Yumichika! There you are! Maiko asked me to find you. Are you off duty already? I was heading to the bathhouse," Katsuo said, bounding into the room with Yumichika's sword clattering behind him. "Here you go. She said you wanted this."

"She got it," he breathed, relieved, but at the same time, vastly and deeply unhappy. Ikkaku had kept it for him all of this time, handing it over only during their training sessions. That he would hand it off - even to Maiko, whom they both trusted - was just devastating proof that he was far too busy these days to have a care for Yumichika.

'_Or perhaps he took me at my word_,' he thought, taking the sword with fingers that felt graceless and inept. '_Perhaps he decided it was for the best when I said that his duty was discharged...Maybe Ikkaku doesn't want to leave _her_. He has a good life here, after all, far better than we would have on the streets..._'

"Are you leaving, Yumichika?" Katsuo asked, watching Yumichika with anxious eyes. "Should I go and get Ikkaku?"

"No, absolutely not," Yumichika said, then considered the little boy for a moment. "Katsuo, can you tell Ikkaku something, if he comes asking for me?"

"Of course!" the child said, rightly offended by the inferred doubt in his messenger skills. "What is it?"

"Tell him that the Stealth Force is going to come, probably not in a way that anyone would recognize," Yumichika said, finding it easier to numb his feelings now that he'd been given his sword back. Everything had an ending, after all, even friendships..."Tell him not to fight if they ask him about me, okay? Tell him...tell him I can take care of myself from now on. Will you do that for me?"

The little boy's lower lip trembled with repressed tears, but he bravely nodded, and said, "Yumichika...Please, when it's safe, come back?"

"Take care of Maiko, Katsuo," Yumichika said, ruffling his hair. "And if she marries Ikkaku, be sure to say a prayer for her now and then, because she's going to need it..."

He left then without anything more than a few _kan_ in tips he'd made over the months. The money from the sale of his kimono had vanished into Ikkaku's money pouch, and Yumichika had never asked after it. Anytime he'd wanted anything, he'd simply asked Ikkaku for it, and the youth had gotten it for him, no questions asked. At any rate, he didn't dwell on it, because he'd rather swallow his tongue than ask Ikkaku for anything _now_.

He hurried out of the gate, unable to resist a last look over his shoulder at the House that had shielded him for the past year, even if the price had been horrifyingly high for Ikkaku. It wasn't relief he felt leaving the safety of its high walls, but heartbroken despair that he hadn't even been able to say goodbye to the young man who'd done so much for him.

Yumichika had no idea where to go, no idea where was _safe_. The Stealth Force were justly named - no one knew they were there until the damage was done, until the mess was made and the blood already spilled. He couldn't evade them forever, not now that his father had played his final hand and brought them into it. He knew it wasn't concern for his welfare or familial duty that drove Ichigawa Daichi, not to _this_ point. If he'd asked his sons to send the Stealth Force out to collect him, then he was after retribution.

No one defied the Ichigawa Clan Head without regretting it. And all Yumichika could do was put as much distance between himself and anyone he cared for as possible, because his father doubtlessly had issued orders to make everyone pay for sheltering him so long.

The sun was rapidly sinking towards the horizon, making him even more anxious to escape. He had no intentions of even staying in this district, but the chances of him slipping past grew more slim by the second. The man he'd met in the rinse room had most likely returned to the Stealth Force headquarters by now and made his report. Even if he lied and said that Ayasegawa Yumichika only bore a striking resemblance to Ichigawa Kanesuke, his brothers would probably send someone else to confirm, or even come themselves.

"Running, are we?"

Yumichika skittered to a stop, eyes wide. A quick glance around the street showed him the evening crowds rapidly making an exit, sensing danger with instincts honed to avoid it. A man emerged on his left, another on his right, blocking the street, while a third drifted out of the shadow of an alley.

"I was told you were trained to join the Stealth Force, but you didn't even notice the spirit pressure of three people following you?" the man scoffed, grinning at him. Yumichika was vaguely relieved to see that it wasn't the man from the bathhouse. Despite the probability that he had informed on Yumichika, he'd been kind when he hadn't had to be, and he hadn't taken Yumichika in hand on sight. "Your father has been looking for you."

"My father is dead, sir," Yumichika gamely said, tipping his head back in unconscious imitation of Ikkaku, his back stiffening with fear and pride. "And what need have I to sense spirit pressure when I have none?"

"None?" the man asked, smirking now. "You know, most whores work because they need coin for food, kid. We've been following you since you left the House of Open Roses, and we know you've been working there. Your father will probably skin you for it, you know. I wouldn't want to go back, either."

"I'm on an errand," Yumichika told him, trembling now as the three men advanced. "The only place I'm going back to is the Open Rose. Please, gentlemen, stop interfering."

"We can sense it, you know, and you should be able to as well," another told him, coming close enough that Yumichika could see the resigned melancholy in his eyes. It was the man from the bathhouse, the man who'd let him go. Whatever he'd seen in Yumichika that had stayed his hand at the Open Rose, however, didn't come to bear in this encounter; all of them came closer with hands on their sword hilts. "Prince Ichigawa Kanesuke, you _will_ come with us, now."

"No," he said, overwhelmed with terror at even the idea of it. The stripes of his last encounter with his father had healed to ugly, pink scars down his back. What manner of horror would befall him upon his return? "If my father wants me back so badly, he wants to do the damage as he watches. If you want to take me, I have the advantage."

"Do you think so?" the man asked, laughing.

"Yes, I do," Yumichika said, unsheathing his sword. "I am armed and can defend myself, but you cannot say the same. _You_ tell _me_, gentlemen - are you willing to die for me?"

They lunged and he spun with his sword in hand, striking against defending sheaths. While they didn't bare their blades, they used them expertly to defend against his slashes, and if it hadn't been for Ikkaku teaching him how to strike with his sword and block with his sheath, they might've quickly managed to unarm him. As it stood, they moved so rapidly that the boy knew he couldn't win, not by himself. He could hold his own, certainly, but all they had to do was wear him down, because he couldn't land any serious hits on them.

"Hey, _hey_! What's this, Yumichika? You fighting without me, eh?"

His panicked violet eyes lifted to see Ikkaku crouched on the roof of the building across from him, watching the fight with assessing grey eyes.

Yumichika's first flush of relief drained to stark fear for him in seconds, but his distraction provided an opportunity for his attackers, and he winced as a painful, blunt hit caught his right forearm, nearly making him drop his sword.

Ikkaku leapt down lightly, landing on his feet like a cat. Though young, he was already of a similar height and build of two of the men, and would no doubt gain the other man's size before the year was up.

"Are you the one who's been helping him?" They paused to assess the newcomer, Yumichika panting within the circle of their weapons.

Ikkaku tipped his head back in that arrogant way of his, lifting his sword to his shoulder, and asked, "Who wants to know?"

"We were given orders to extract retribution from whomever offered to harbor this boy," Ikkaku was told. "We were informed that he was being aided by a bald kid; I guess you're him."

Ikkaku's serious frown turned into an angry scowl and he pointed his sheathed sword at them, shouting, "Listen here! _I'm not bald_, got it? And if you don't move away right now, I'll _pound you_. I take care of this kid, understand? He's no one you need to mess with."

"Ikkaku! Get out of here, you fool!" Yumichika hissed, taking the opportunity to break away from the three men, holding his sword and sheath out before him in a ready posture. "I didn't ask you to come after me!"

"Eh? You didn't?" Ikkaku asked, then grinned his sharp, white grin. "But I'm here, and I don't like these guys, I think. Three against one, that's no good odds with this one. How about you try it against _me_?"

"Ikkaku!" Yumichika shouted, terrified because they wouldn't hesitate to draw their blades on _him_.

"_Stay out of this, Yumichika_!" Ikkaku shouted, gleeful and in his element, baring the shining length of his carefully tended sword. "_This is no kind of fight for you_!"

Yumichika ignored him, dashing to his side in the hopes of deterring the men from deadly violence.

The man from the bathhouse sadly drew his sword and said, "Do not strike the Prince. His father will forgive minor injury, but nothing serious."

"_Stay out of this_, I said!" Ikkaku repeated, his grin positively ferocious, a strange and threatening power crackling around him. Yumichika felt it prickle along his skin like a touch, and realized that it must be the spirit pressure that those men had mentioned. Whatever it was, it felt dangerous and unstoppable, like flames on a dry, open plain, and for just an instant hope flared in Yumichika's heart that Ikkaku might actually walk away alive. "You three, listen up. If you don't want to die, get out of here! I am Madarame Ikkaku, and if you don't kill me quickly, then you'll die at my feet in this road, understand?"

"That is an impressive amount of spirit pressure you've managed to build, Madarame Ikkaku," he was told. "But you're no match for trained Stealth Force. Give us the Prince, or _you_ will die."

Ikkaku laughed his throaty, raspy laugh that Yumichika silently adored. It was followed by the youth lowly saying, "Ah, but I don't _care_ if I die, and that's the difference between us."

He lunged, then, fighting with a skill that even Yumichika was shocked by. Ikkaku's time in the Mistress's service hadn't been spent idly - those brutal matches had honed his ability in a way that mere training and missions never could. Every fight he'd engaged in had been one to the death, and very few of them were one-on-one. In that, Ikkaku actually had an advantage over these trained men, and rapidly gained ground.

Yumichika engaged one of the men, deflecting his sword from Ikkaku's side and wrenching it away. In a soft snarl, he said, "Face me as a man! Striking your opponent in his back reeks of cowardice, and cowards are not beautiful."

The man laughed, taking him lightly despite the fact that Yumichika had been able to defend against three of them at once. After a few exchanges, however, he stopped smiling and began to fight in earnest.

"Is it so hard to believe now?" Yumichika asked, regaining his breath, his fear dying down as his training took over. "Does it show, now, that I was trained for the Stealth Force?"

The man grit his teeth and growled, "Don't get cocky, kid! Even if you win today, he knows where you are."

"Not for long," Yumichika countered, turning smoothly into a slash that opened a telling wound on the man's forearm. "That was for hitting me."

He switched his sword to his other hand, just as adept, and circled with Yumichika in the dusty, darkened street.

Yumichika could hear Ikkaku's gleeful shouts as he fought, punctuated by the ring of metal meeting metal. He tried to block it out, to devote his concentration to his own fight, but was forcibly drawn into it when Ikkaku jumped nimbly over one fallen opponent, caught Yumichika's aggressor by his collar, and dragged him back with the remaining man.

"_Now stay out of this_!" the youth ordered once more, dealing a powerful blow that sent both men staggering back away from Yumichika and past their fallen comrade, who lay unconscious in the street.

Yumichika shook with a mixture of frustration, outrage, and delayed exhaustion as he glared at Ikkaku, but despite the odds, the youth was managing perfectly well on his own. Yumichika's proximity kept the Stealth Force men from using more dangerous _kido_ incantations, and Ikkaku's swift movements interrupted the rest.

"Stupid fool!" Yumichika fiercely whispered, still glaring. "Why did you come after me, idiot?! Why don't I just run away right now and leave you behind me forever? At least then you wouldn't be in _this_ kind of danger!"

It was a question that startled and scared him, because he hadn't considered it before. His gaze turned thoughtful as he watched Ikkaku fight, watched his wiry, muscular limbs move gracefully, yet with brutal force. What _was _it about that insufferable man that kept him from truly just walking away? What caused these strange feelings to well inside of him when he even _considered_ leaving Ikkaku in truth, even if it would probably save the youth's life?

"It's_ that_," Yumichika whispered, shocked and dismayed by the strength of what filled him, struck by a thunderbolt of understanding where his feelings were concerned. "_Of all the stupid things, it's _that!"

He'd been so careful all of this time not to look too closely at what he felt for Ikkaku, but in one moment of careful reflection he'd unearthed the true reason behind his constant companionship with Madarame Ikkaku. Of course he couldn't walk away! How could he when so much of his heart was no longer his? When so much of himself belonged to that brash, loud, cocky, utterly bafflingly wonderful boy?

"Hey, Yumichika!" Ikkaku hollered, and suddenly his angry frustration was gone as if it had never been, because when it came down to it, the only thing that he couldn't endure from Madarame Ikkaku was the death he courted so ardently. "Is this the one that stole a kiss from you, eh?"

"H...how did you know about that?!" he squeaked, horrified.

Ikkaku was holding the man from the bathhouse by the throat and looked fierce enough to bite.

"Do you want me to kill this one? Eh? I'll teach him to put his hands on you, _heh_!"

"N..._no_, Ikkaku!" he said, alarmed. "No, don't kill him!"

"What's this? Why not? _Why not, I said_!" Ikkaku demanded, one foot on the second man's slumped back. He gave the bathhouse man's throat a nasty shake. "I'll teach him to take what isn't his!"

"He didn't _steal_ it!" Yumichika protested, driving his clenched fist into Ikkaku's shoulder, which only served to hurt his hand. "_Stop_ this, Ikkaku! It won't do any good to kill him, they already know where I _am_!"

"_Didn't_ steal it, eh?" Ikkaku lowly growled, and dealt the man a hard blow to the skull with the hilt of his sword. "Didn't I tell you what I'd do if you were whoring? _Eh_? And what were you doing in the bathhouse again, anyway?"

"I was put on the roster," Yumichika weakly told him, watching the man crumple to the road. It was foolish and childish to spare him, and the merciful act would backfire without fail, but he simply couldn't allow it. "Damn it, Ikkaku! Why did you come after me?!"

He swung away, stepping over the three bodies, his thoughts and emotions in turmoil.

It was absurd to think that _this _was the moment, the moment when he realized what his affection for Ikkaku really was. Not as a brother - he had seven of those and the feelings were nothing even close. Not just as a friend, because friendship, surely, didn't leave such a gap for yearning, did it? It didn't leave a hollow to be filled by something unnamed, did it? Friendship didn't make his hands itch until they rested on Ikkaku. Friendship didn't make his stomach flip when Ikkaku gave him a sly, sideways look and a wide grin. Friendship didn't make him upset to the point of tearful rage every time that one of the girls boasted of Ikkaku's exertions in her bed. There was something intangible, unknown that he wanted from Ikkaku, all he understood was that he wanted _more_ of Ikkaku, as if he'd become a glutton for something bitter-sweet and sharp.

"Hey, Yumichika," Ikkaku called to him. The slender boy looked back to see him standing there over the three bodies with dirt and blood on his face and his sword balanced over one shoulder. Ikkaku's mouth was pulled into a questioning frown, his brows drawn down, the vein in his temple pulsing in an expression that said he had no idea what had just happened or why, but either way he wasn't pleased in the least that Yumichika had walked away from him. "Are you hungry?"

Of all the stupid, stupid things, he'd gone and fallen in love with Madarame Ikkaku...

"Hey, _hey_! Are you _hungry_, I said!" Ikkaku complained, stepping over them to get to Yumichika, scowling when he shied away. "_Eh_? What's this?! Don't _be_ like that! I didn't kill them! Don't be so soft!"

"It wasn't that," Yumichika whispered, and had a single, utterly panicked understanding pierce his sudden realization - Ikkaku would never accept it. To cover his strange reaction, he lied, "You smell like blood. It isn't beautiful."

Ikkaku grinned, making Yumichika's heart swell with the hunger to be a part of him, to be his somehow, touched and held and useful like his sword.

"Then I'll have a bath," Ikkaku said, wiping at his face to get a rivulet of blood off. "You look so sad, Yumichika. Will you be happy if I'm clean?"

"Yes, Ikkaku," Yumichika said, rapidly coming to terms with what he had to do. "I'll be happy."

"Then _sound_ happy, brat!" Ikkaku warned, tapping him on the shoulder with his sheathed sword. "Come on, it's late already. I got tired fighting those guys."

"You should have let _me_ fight them," Yumichika protested, stifling the leap in his heart whenever Ikkaku propped one arm over his shoulders. How on earth was he going to hide this? How on earth would he be able to stay with him? '_But I can't leave him and today proves it...I can't even imagine being without him. He's the only reason I try, the only reason I keep going._'

"If it makes you so sad, Yumichika, I'll let you fight the next one," Ikkaku generously offered. He seemed so different now in the wake of Yumichika's realization. Suddenly, he could easily see why the Mistress had made the arrangement she had. Ikkaku might not have reached the full height and power that he surely would, but he wasn't lacking much of it, and Yumichika felt a world removed from the youth he'd always felt so close to. "Hey, _don't be so sad_, I said! When you're unhappy, it makes me grouchy."

"I can't believe you came after me," Yumichika softly said, his fear returning, worming its way through his realization. "Ikkaku, those men were from the Stealth Force. My father _is_ still looking for me, and he won't stop until he has me back. You'll die if you stay near me."

"Ah, well, I don't mind it," Ikkaku boasted, grinning. He was bleeding from a dozen different places, some of which would need stitching, Yumichika knew. "Am I a man? How could I not come after you when Katsuo told me you'd left, eh? And then Satoshi tells me someone kissed you in the bathhouse - _heh_! How stupid!"

Yumichika pulled away with a disdainful sniff, hurt and offended by that summary. "I _said_ that you smell! Get away from me, you idiot!"

It got Ikkaku to laugh his throaty, ornery laugh, pleased. He always laughed when Yumichika was sassy, and the smaller boy had quickly grasped that Ikkaku both appreciated and delighted in his prim and proper attitude. They were such polar opposites that entertaining one another was simply a matter of talking, yet Yumichika never found that they clashed seriously or truly disagreed on anything. Ikkaku wasn't just his friend, he was his _best_ friend.

"Don't worry, Yumichika," Ikkaku told him. "I'll straighten out this bathhouse thing with the Old Lady. I won't let your father have you back, I promise."

'_If he won't let me leave him, then I won't risk losing his friendship_,' Yumichika thought, trying to smother the feeling in his heart that revolved around Ikkaku, the place that whispered it would be utterly filled, utterly whole if only he admitted it. '_I _can't_ let him know how I feel; he wouldn't understand. Besides, it isn't beautiful to be made a fool of, and he would laugh to hear it, I _know_ he would_...'

"He'll come for me," Yumichika numbly said, dismayed by the future he'd crafted for himself with his stubbornness.

"Let him," Ikkaku said, swiping his sleeve over his forehead to staunch the blood.

"He'll _kill_ you," Yumichika breathed, turning to shake him by the arms, wishing there was some way to get through the impenetrable fortress of Ikkaku's confidence with the ugly, bitter truth.

Ikkaku just grinned at him and said, "He can _try_. Now come on, Yumichika. I'm sorry I was gone last night, but I was in another district on an errand. I'll make it up to you, eh? Let's have a bath and then I'll treat you to dinner. You need to eat more, you scrawny brat."

"You're an idiot," Yumichika said, unable to keep the fondness from his voice.

But in his heart, what he really said was, "_I love you_."


	5. Chapter 5

They returned to the House of Open Roses despite Yumichika's protests. It was quite difficult to sway Ikkaku once his stubborn mind was set, and he was determined to have it out with the "Old Lady" who had put Yumichika back in the bathhouse.

"But they know we're _here_!" Yumichika reminded him, reluctantly passing through the gates. "It's ridiculous to come back to a place where they're looking for us!"

"Yumichika," Ikkaku said, one strong, warm hand coming to rest on the smaller youth's shoulder. "I'll take care of you, I promise. Don't be afraid. Even if they take you, I'll be right behind you, picking them off as they go, yeah?"

He nodded, thinking of his father's fierce temper, of how cruel he could be when he was riled.

"Here, now, Yumichika," Ikkaku said, shaking him a little. "I promised you, I said! Don't be so scared! Your father wouldn't want the world to know his son was living here in disguise, right? No way he'll cause a scene. We'll just have to make sure you're never alone, that's all. Now, come on."

He gave Yumichika a gentle tug and headed inside, secure in the fact that the smaller boy would stay right at his side, as he always did. Yumichika fell into step, uneasy, suddenly worrying that his father would somehow ferret out his hidden feelings and take Ikkaku away from him. It was irrational, he knew - there was no way that his father could know something he would hardly admit to himself - but it didn't mitigate his fear. Ikkaku was precious to him, and his father never rested until such precious things were destroyed.

"Ikkaku..."

"Eh?"

"If the odds are wrong, promise me that you'll forget about me," Yumichika said, his voice catching as he spoke, even the idea of Ikkaku being hurt again or killed nearly strangling him with fear.

"_Heh_? I'll never promise _that_!" Ikkaku snarled, glaring back at him. "Don't be stupid, Yumichika! Whatever the odds, I'll take care of you! You can handle yourself; between us we're safe enough."

The House was in full swing, but no comings and goings of House personnel went unremarked, and in scant moments there was a small crowd gathered to welcome them both back.

"Hey, Maiko!" Ikkaku said, raising his voice to be heard above the usual House din, now compounded by excited voices asking what had happened. "Get one of the others to stay with Yumichika! I'm going to talk to the old lady."

"Ikkaku," Yumichika tried again, pleading with everything in him.

But Ikkaku only told him, "Wait here for me, I'll be back before you know it, then we can go get a bath and eat, brat."

"Wait, Ikkaku!" he called, but the wiry young man was already shoving his way towards the Mistress's private quarters, leaving Yumichika safe in the crowd.

Another guardsman showed up a short while later and escorted Yumichika to a quieter hallway where he waited for Ikkaku with slowly growing ire that couldn't quite extinguish the newly kindled fire in his soul.

Another half an hour later, another half an hour hungrier, and Yumichika was contemplating myriad ways in which to slowly murder him.

"Where are you going, Yumichika?" The guard - Hideki - asked as Yumichika stood, vigilant despite his boredom. "Hey! Hey! Yumichika!"

The fuming boy strode smartly towards the pair of guards lounging outside of the Mistress's door. Stopping before them, he crossed his arms over his chest and demanded in the haughtiest tone he could summon, "Tell Madarame Ikkaku that I am tired of waiting!"

They exchanged glances, then smirked, the elder of them telling him, "Ah, no, little Yumichika. I wouldn't go in there on a dare, not even for Ikkaku's favorite."

"Ikkaku's fav - _excuse _me?!" Yumichika flared, sensing some kind of condescending humor in the statement. "If you won't go in, then _I_ will!"

"Oh, I wouldn't do that," the other said, and they laughed again, the kind of snickering laughter that followed the inappropriate jokes Ikkaku found so humorous. "They've been arguing, see. And _now_, it's quiet."

Yumichika glared at them in consternation, and was forced to ask, "_So_?!"

"Ah, _hey_," Hideki sighed, pulling on his shoulder a little. "How long have you lived in a whorehouse without learning anything, Yumichika? Leave them for a little while, eh?"

Yumichika's obvious distress make Hideki wince, blush, and then try to console him with, "It's nothing, really. It's just fun is all, no harm done! It doesn't mean anything, eh? _Please don't cry_, Yumichika! Senior Ikkaku will _kill_ me!"

"I'm not going to cry, you moron!" Yumichika hissed, though he felt dangerously close to doing just that - but it was from _anger_ now, and Hideki knew it. "_I_ am going to count to _ten_! And if none of you big, brave men has courage enough to go and deliver my message, then _I_ will deliver it my_self_!"

It stung their pride as it was meant to, but Yumichika needn't have bothered.

The door burst open just after he said it, nearly knocking the two men over, and Ikkaku stood there in a righteous fury, his eyes blazing with irritation.

"Hey,_ hey_! _Stop it, I said_!" he shouted, with volume enough to shake the priceless vases on their low tables. The three men immediately hastened into apologetic positions, but the angry bald youth hadn't been hollering at _them_.

Yumichika coiled to snap back at him, but then he registered the fact that Ikkaku was half-dressed, thoroughly pissed off, and repeatedly pulling away from the Mistress's slender, grasping white hands.

"_Knock it off, woman_!" Ikkaku snarled, tugging the layers of his House kimono up over one bared shoulder, his other hand holding up the tie of his loosened hakama while he scowled fiercely enough to burn holes in everything he set his eyes on. "I said _no_, damn it!" Those grey eyes landed on the slim, trembling form of his angry friend and he said without an ounce of surprise, "Ah, Yumichika. Good. Let's go."

"Ikkaku!" The Mistress shouted, pulling on his shoulder again, her own lovely face set in a mixture of anger and exasperation. "Damn it, you stubborn mule! You've got to _rest_, you fool!"

"_Shut up, I said_!" Ikkaku said, absently shoving her hand away every time she reached for him, hastily righting his clothing enough to keep it all from falling clean off of his lean body. "We're going. Come on, Yumichika. Sorry to make you wait. Damned _woman_."

Yumichika nearly wrenched away from Ikkaku's tug on his elbow, but then he caught sight of the Mistress's face and he thought better of it. Instead, filled with an odd flush of victory, he smirked a little, gave a toss of his hair to flash those feathers, and moved with quiet, serene grace next to Ikkaku as the scowling young man stomped back towards the main hall.

Ikkaku muttered the whole way, hauling on his clothing as they threaded their way through the crowded House out into the relatively abandoned courtyard. Everyone not on coin service or regular duty was either at their evening meal or relaxing out in the cool night air, so the pair of them hardly saw a soul once they hit the servants' quarters.

"What took you so long?" Yumichika asked once they were nearly to the common room.

"A damned _nuisance_," Ikkaku sourly said, and growled something low and rude about the Mistress. "Sorry, Yumichika. I didn't mean to get distracted. I started bleeding all over the place and she sent for the surgeon. I _told _her you were waiting for me..._that damned woman_!"

Yumichika winced a little, thinking of how swift her retribution had been when Ikkaku had paid more attention to him than she quite cared for. Having Ikkaku angrily vacate her bed and rebuff her attempts to coddle him would, no doubt, carry a much steeper price, especially with Yumichika's thoughtless gloating just now.

"How bad?"

"Eh? What's this?" Ikkaku asked, going to one of the cubicles he stashed a change of clothes in.

"How bad were you _bleeding_, Ikkaku?" Yumichika clarified, watching him shed his ragged, dusty outer garments to expose the blood-soaked, white inner layers. "Ikkaku! I think...I think she was right. You need to rest and let those heal up."

"Nah," Ikkaku said. "What're you _doing_, Yumichika? Get changed! _Get changed, I said_! I want a bath and some food."

"Ikkaku, you're still bleeding all over the place!" Yumichika snapped at him, but hastened to change into the simple bathrobe all the same. "Who will tend you if the surgeon won't?"

Ikkaku just shrugged his broad, bare shoulders and told him, "He got the worst ones, and there's still some of that salve left. We'll get it after our bath, don't worry so much, Yumichika."

Yumichika sighed, biting back his protests and reluctantly smiling to see Ikkaku so irritated. He had a terrible temper at the best of times, but the Mistress had really put him in a snit with her possessive demands.

"Eh? What is it?" Ikkaku turned to look down at him with those dark grey eyes, a clean bathrobe dangling from one scar-traced fist, a stubborn frown still on his face.

Yumichika laughed, then, and told him, "You're so angry, Ikkaku - it isn't beautiful. What on earth did she do that made you so furious?"

"Ah, Yumichika," Ikkaku said, his frown softening to a wry smile. "It doesn't matter. You're safe here, and I'll make sure you're not left alone again, yeah?"

"Ikkaku," Yumichika said, squeezing Ikkaku's wrist when the youth reached up to rest his hand on Yumichika's shoulder. Ikkaku had nice wrists that had always made Yumichika vaguely envious, mostly because they were strong without being too thick, but still graceful and powerful. The shift of sinew, bone, and coiled muscle beneath his fingers was like a slap in the face, however, and he found that he'd lost his train of thought. Ikkaku slept in his bed, bathed with him, sported with him and teased him, but Yumichika had come from a house where demonstrative overtures were rebuffed with a vengeance, so he'd but rarely touched Ikkaku's bare skin with his sensitive fingers. He started a little, and managed, "Why are you so angry?"

"_It doesn't matter, I said_!" the youth lowly repeated, and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "I'm not mad _now_, Yumichika, am I? Come on, I'm starving."

The bathhouse for the serving staff was nothing near as elaborate as the more privacy-minded one for the patrons, and it catered to all of the House's serving staff as a whole, which allowed Yumichika to bathe together with Ikkaku without anyone remarking on it.

"Hey, Chou," Ikkaku called, getting the attendant's attention. "Anybody in?"

"No, Senior Ikkaku," Chou said, perking up a little when she saw them. Bathhouse attendance for the servants was boring work, Yumichika had heard, but the Mistress wanted lists - she was strict about their appearances, and kept tabs on how often they bathed. "Wow, _you've_ been worked over! You want me to close up for now?"

"Yeah," Ikkaku said, slipping his shoes off and grabbing Yumichika's while he was bent over, shoveling both pairs into a cubby. "Nobody in until we're done."

"Sure, I know the drill," Chou said, smiling in a way that made Yumichika mildly irritated.

"Are you in trouble again, Chou?" he asked sweetly.

The girl just laughed and waved them through, moving to block the entrance with a screen for now.

"You know, sometimes I forget that they all think I'm a girl," Yumichika murmured to Ikkaku, moving to their usual cabinets to drop off their clean clothes.

"Heh, well, they see what they want," Ikkaku gruffly told him, wincing as he shed the bloody _juban_ he'd worn over.

"Ah, those look awful," Yumichika murmured, wincing to see several angry, seeping wounds hastily stitched together, and far too many cuts that weren't. "I wish you hadn't come for me, Ikkaku, then you wouldn't be hurt this badly."

"_Shut up_!" Ikkaku ordered, glaring at him over one shoulder. "You're alive, aren't you? And I got to fight, so both of us are happy."

The fact that he said it with such an angry expression made Yumichika laugh, which changed Ikkaku's expression to one of vague bewilderment. But he smiled all the same, always happy to have a laugh despite his fierce demeanor, and said, "Stupid brat. Help me wash this blood off of my back."

Yumichika used soapy hands to do so, and it wasn't _entirely_ due to the fact that he didn't want to disturb those stitches with a rough sponge. The feelings it evoked confused him, frightened him, but were novel enough to make him want more.

"Thanks," Ikkaku told him, moving to heft the bucket of hot water.

Yumichika snagged it away and lifted it, lightly saying, "Allow me. It's my _job_, don't you know?"

Ikkaku shot him a dark look as water sluiced down his strong, wounded back, and said with a trace of heat, "Not anymore. That damned woman, putting you in the bathhouse after I told her you weren't to be. _Heh_! Don't worry, Yumichika, I set her straight."

"Ikkaku, she's the Mistress of this House, how could _you_ possibly set _her_ straight?" Yumichika asked, finding another way to get his answers. He tipped more water, wiping the last of the soap off of Ikkaku's back. "She put me there because of you, you know."

"Ah. I know," Ikkaku said, finished soaping his arms. "Jealous old lady. She knows you're a boy; I don't understand why she hates you so much. What does she think I'm doing with you, eh? Like she doesn't know my tastes by now! _Heh_!"

Yumichika paused, momentarily stunned as the emotional equivalent of iced water was thrown over his heart. What _was_ Ikkaku doing with him? Yumichika was no threat to the Mistress, was he? Ikkaku liked _girls_, liked _women_; he'd never once shown an inclination to bed one of the House's many younger boys.

And Yumichika was decidedly not a woman, however beautiful, feminine, and graceful he might be.

'_It's just as well I didn't tell him_,' Yumichika thought, breathless with the force of the pain that lanced through him, as sharp as Ikkaku's beloved blade. '_He'd probably laugh, thinking it was a joke. And when he realized it _wasn't_, he'd hate me..._'

"Yumichika? What's wrong?" Ikkaku asked, turning as he rinsed, his curious grey eyes flicking over Yumichika's slender, nude body. "You're white all over."

"It's...it's just..." Yumichika stammered, trying to find an explanation, because the truth would only serve to harm him far worse than his father ever could. "It's just your _wounds_, Ikkaku. I'm sorry that you got hurt so badly over me."

Ikkaku grinned at him and clapped him on the shoulder with force enough to push him sideways. "Nevermind that, Yumichika. I had fun and you're safe, right?"

Yumichika got himself in hand and nodded, quickly finishing his own scrubbing, rinsing off thoroughly for the bath. It felt like his chest was punctured somehow, like something he cherished was leaking out, something he needed in order to live. He just kept hearing Ikkaku's raspy voice in his head over and over, '_What does she think I'm doing with you, eh_?'

The ugly feelings of rejection persisted into the bath, where Ikkaku meticulously took the file to Yumichika's nails, berating him for trying to do them himself in the meantime.

"You make them go to one side, stupid," Ikkaku complained, peering at the damage that Yumichika had done in his absence. "Just wait until I'm back! Just _wait_, I said, Yumichika! I'm never gone from you long; just leave them alone."

"They're _mine_, aren't they?" Yumichika smartly asked, his hurt transmuting to anger - anger at Ikkaku for being so loveable, anger at Ikkaku for lacking any inclination to care for him the same way...but mostly anger at himself for being so incredibly, hopelessly, childishly stupid as to lay his affections at Ikkaku's indifferent door.

"Shut up, brat," Ikkaku ordered, but his touch was gentle despite the harshness of his voice. "From now on you'll be in the House, Yumichika."

"What?" he asked, studiously not allowing his thoughts to dwell on Ikkaku next to him.

"You'll be in the _House_, I said!" Ikkaku said, giving his hand a tug to get his attention. "The old lady agreed to let you attend the House ladies. That way you'll be inside, where I can get to you quickly."

"I didn't realize that you were inside so often as all that," Yumichika quietly observed.

"Well, I will be now," Ikkaku told him, his handsome face closing up, shutting Yumichika out. "Yumichika...I made a deal with her. You'd probably find out through the others, anyway."

"D...deal? What kind of deal?" Yumichika asked, feeling sick to his stomach again.

"She'll keep you in the House and protect you from everyone," Ikkaku said, carefully hedging around _his_ side of the deal. "She can do that, you know. She has a lot of power herself, and she's threatened your father with a scene if he keeps trying to swipe you from here. You'll be safe, just stay where I can get to you, okay?"

"And what did you offer her in return?" Yumichika asked.

"Nothing she hasn't already been getting," Ikkaku said, his self-satisfied grin unsettling. "But I won't be able to sleep in your bed from now on."

Yumichika stared at him in mute horror, despairing that he would lose that much of Ikkaku to that meddling, vindictive, dangerous woman.

"But you'll be Rin's personal servant when she needs you, so you'll sleep in the dormer in her room," Ikkaku said, naming the House's premier star and biggest primadona. "She'll keep an eye on you. She's always friendly with me, and she knows you're under my protection."

"I'm sure," Yumichika softly said, thinking that there wasn't much Rin wouldn't do to get Ikkaku in her bed. It was a status issue, a subtle competition between her and the Mistress. Ikkaku confined his attentions to the lower members of the House because bedding anyone with status had always resulted in the Mistress quickly retaliating. The only one she couldn't control was Rin. The beautiful young prostitute brought in enough money to buy her contract, but refused to all the same because she was bitch enough to enjoy making the Mistress uneasy with her presence.

"So, it's all taken care of," Ikkaku smugly announced, pleased with himself and not afraid to show it. "You'll get better treatment with Rin, Yumichika. She gets the best food, and plenty of rest. I can't imagine a pretty girl like that could need much, anyway."

"You idiot," Yumichika breathed, because living with women for the past year had taught him that they were _nothing_ like they seemed. Cattiness wasn't a personality defect here, it was a survival tool. Men like Ikkaku had no idea what the women around them were capable of, and that was exactly how they all prefered it. "Ikkaku, tell me, are you sleeping with the mistress just to keep me safe?"

Ikkaku blushed lightly, and fiercely told him, "Don't talk about things like that, Yumichika! _Don't_, I said! It isn't that anyway, you damned brat! Why _wouldn't_ I sleep with her, _eh_?! _Stupid_! One day you'll _envy_ me, Yumichika! One day you'll wake up and wish _you_ were in her bed!"

"Oh, _that_ I highly doubt!" Yumichika told him, and snatched his hand away. He plucked the file out of Ikkaku's surprised fingers and said with the full measure of his snobbery, "That's quite enough, Madarame Ikkaku."

He rose gracefully to his feet and headed for his towel, ignoring Ikkaku's sputters behind him.

"Hey, _hey_!" Ikkaku shouted, coming after him. "Why are you mad? Don't be mad, Yumichika! Of all the stupid things, getting mad over an answer you asked for! _Heh_!"

"I asked you a question," Yumichika lightly said, wrapping up in his towel, refusing to look at Ikkaku. "_You're_ the one who grew vulgar. I don't have to soil my ears with this kind of talk. Goodnight."

"Damn it, Yumichika!" Ikkaku fumed, snatching his towel down and rapidly drying off. "Why are you so angry? I won't say anything more! I won't, I said! Now stop being mad!"

He ended on a hissing, indrawn breath that overwhelmed Yumichika's hurt with concern.

"Ikkaku! You idiot! Did you tear your stitches?" he asked, hastening to look at the young man's back.

"_How would I know, _Yumichika, eh?!" Ikkaku flared, cursing fluidly. "Damn you, getting me all angry, and after I saved you! Ungrateful brat Prince!"

"Oh, stop your howling," Yumichika firmly told him, inspecting the damage. "You didn't tear anything, but you _are_ bleeding a little again. Come on, let's get that salve and get these covered."

He headed off but Ikkaku stubbornly stood where he was, glowering at Yumichika from the bottoms of his lovely eyes.

"Eh? What is it, Ikkaku?" Yumichika asked, his slender limbs falling into an unconsciously graceful pose as he waited.

"Don't be mad, Yumichika, I said," Ikkaku repeated, apparently more bothered by it than Yumichika had first thought.

Since Ikkaku would most likely rather stand there all night in a stubborn show of disapproval than relent in the least, Yumichika cocked his head and gave him a soft smile, saying, "I'm not angry with you, Ikkaku."

The black slashes of Ikkaku's brows rose slightly, then slammed down in a scowl. Sounding oddly flustered, the youth said, "_Good_! So stop asking me about it, then!"

"I won't ask you about it anymore," Yumichika quietly told him, wondering what on earth he'd ever done in his life to have a man like Madarame Ikkaku willing to watch over him. "I don't want to know about it anyway, Ikkaku. It isn't beautiful, you know. It isn't beautiful at all."

"Beautiful or not," Ikkaku said, his voice falling into a raspy purr. "It works and you're safe, and that's all I care about. Now, come on, let's go eat."

He brushed past Yumichika, leaving the boy bewildered in his wake, his broad shoulders tight with tension but his head held high.

* * *

Yumichika waited with dread for the Mistress's retribution, but having Ikkaku at her side at every opportunity seemed to satisfy her for the most part. The wary youth knew better than to think she was done with him, however, especially since Rin seemed to take perverse pleasure in parading Yumichika in front of her. Critical, beautiful, cruel, and cold as she was, the House's reigning Queen took no chances with his safety, he had to admit. She never asked him to leave the House for any reason, and was distracted enough by her patrons not to run him too terribly ragged.

The worst part was the cost. Yumichika felt as if he'd lost Ikkaku in so many ways that he didn't have a part of him anymore. The wiry, lean young guardsman came and went with the Mistress, took his meals with her, and vanished into her apartments at night without a backwards glance or even a protest. He did maintain his daily visits to Yumichika, though, usually with a little gift in hand. The encounters were brief and filled with Yumichika's growing, reserved silence, but the contact was enough to keep the House rumor mill gladly supporting his reputation as Ikkaku's favorite girl.

Then one day, he didn't come at all, and Yumichika realized with despair that he'd somehow lost Ikkaku entirely without so much as chance to protest it.

"Yumichika! Yumichika!"

He was torn from his anguished musings to see one of the newer attendants coming his way at a dead, panicked run. Alarmed, he rose from where he'd been hemming Rin's kimono, and took a step towards the child.

"What is it? What's wrong? Is it Rin?"

"No! She says to come right now! She says it's Ikkaku!" the little boy said, breathlessly scared.

"_Ikkaku_!" Yumichika breathed, fear swallowing his heart. He dashed the way the boy had come, towards the back of the House, vaguely hearing the child call after him, "She said he's in the garden! In the garden!"

Everyone moved out of his way as he ran through, watching him with bewildered curiosity. Yumichika paid them no mind - all he could think was that something had finally gone wrong, that Ikkaku had picked a fight he couldn't win, that he'd finally been _killed_...

"Ikkaku!" he cried, running out of the House and onto the pathway, barreling into the privacy garden at full speed. "_Ikkaku_!"

He saw a gathered group ahead and pushed his way among them, casting around in panicked fear, asking, "Where is he? _Where is he_?"

But there was no precious, fierce bald boy there.

Only this group of strangers watching him with mild, emotionless eyes.

He straightened slowly and faced them, panting, seeing how far he'd come from the House, silently berating himself for a fool a thousand times over.

They didn't seem particularly menacing, but Yumichika knew that was misleading - they were dangerous men and women, trained killers with the skill to hide themselves in plain sight.

"Prince Ichigawa Kanesuke, your father requires you to return to your home for your own safety," the man in charge said, his brown eyes reflecting Yumichika's wan, frightened face.

"My safety is the last thing he's worried about," Yumichika answered, baring his teeth and reaching for his sword, which Rin delighted in letting him wear since it irritated the Mistress.

"If you do not come with us," the man said, lifting his hand to still Yumichika's movement. "Then my comrade will kill Madarame Ikkaku without fail."

Yumichika paused, overcome with terrified horror, frozen with dread for a split second before he managed to stammer, "I...Impossible! There is no one inside who could do such a thing! And he's a very good fighter - "

"And right now you are supposed to be safely within reach," the man said, smug. "Yet here we are. My people infiltrated this House half a year ago, young Prince. All it takes from me is a signal, and your violent companion will be murdered by the woman he's with. I believe she goes by _Rin_, does she not?"

Darkness swarmed up to cover Yumichika's vision even as he tried to have faith in Ikkaku's ability. He'd seen the youth fight, he knew he was fiercely dangerous. But Ikkaku was incredibly vulnerable right now, especially to a woman he had no reason to mistrust, and Yumichika had, stupidly, gotten outside of his reach. For just a moment he'd strayed beyond Ikkaku's protection, and in that moment he'd managed to undo everything the young man had done for him.

Would he allow Ikkaku to die for him as well when the ending would be the same? However he looked at it, he would be returned to his father to face his punishment...

"I will go with you," he said, lifting his chin, summoning all of his ragged pride. "But I want your loyal oath to a Prince of the Ichigawa that Madarame Ikkaku and the people of the Open Rose will come to no harm."

"You have it," the man said, pressing his hand to his heart and bowing slightly.

"Ikkaku will be allowed to live his life safely and go about his business, and none of you will affect his circumstances to hasten his death in any manner whatsoever, do you understand?"

"We do," the man said, smirking a little. "Your father was adamant that we kill whoever had harbored you, but his priority is your return. I am sure he will not mind such an oath."

"Good," Yumichika said, taking a deep breath. He thought of Ikkaku, held together with stitches and stubbornness, ready to take on the world and the consequences be damned. He thought of how much of Ikkaku he had lost, and how little of himself remained in the parting. Trembling, he held the image of Ikkaku's beloved face in his mind, hoping to brand it there to comfort him when he finally got his due. His heart ached with loss already, incomplete without Ikkaku's presence, but the scrappy young warrior had already severed most of their ties. As for Yumichika, he knew he would endure anything if Ikkaku was able to live.

He opened his violet eyes and said with confidence he did not feel, "Let's go, then."


	6. Chapter 6

_**If you are enjoying this story, have suggestions, or any complaints, please let me know! Feedback is always appreciated and gives me the boost I need to keep going!**_

* * *

By dawn the next day, Yumichika was back in the place that he'd run from just a little over a year ago.

It felt alien to him, bereft of any connection, of any pleasant memories. His family had been assembled, kneeling to either side of his father's outsized chair, none of them looking at him except for Eldest Brother.

Ichigawa Daichi himself stared stonily at his wayward son, his eyes like ice, his skeletal fingers pulling thoughtfully through his long beard.

Yumichika remained silent as the servants admitted him, and just as silently moved forward to bow to his father, pressing his head to the mat at the man's spread feet.

"I asked you to bring me my son, and instead you bring me refuse from a whorehouse," Daichi said, speaking over Yumichika's prone form to address the trembling servants. "Take this creature away and deal with it; I am too busy a man to waste more time on such an insignificant stray."

Yumichika flinched from the chill in his words, but it was no less than he expected. Who among them could claim love from their hardened, indifferent father? Who among them could ever please him, or win a word of praise? All this interview did was allow Daichi the opportunity to clarify his status with the household before retreating to form a fittingly horrific punishment.

The servants came forward and caught him up, careful all the same. Yumichika was able to cast a despairing look around before he was forced out of the door, and it was long enough to meet Eldest Brother's unhappy, worried eyes.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked, rumpled and stale from the long litter ride. He'd been hustled into a closed litter straight from the Open Rose and they had made no stops along the way, even changing bearers in mid-run.

"Lord Ichigawa has declared that you will be housed in the prison, young master," Kenta said, rapidly ushering him away. Kenta had been tasked with guarding Yumichika once he'd started walking, and was the closest thing to a confidant the boy had ever had here.

Regretfully, Yumichika asked, "Did he hurt you badly when I left, Kenta?"

Kenta flinched, but firmly said, "It was nothing more than I deserved, young master."

'_No more than he deserved...that confirms it, I'm back_,' he thought, smelling familiar aromas, feeling familiar textures, hearing familiar voices. '_Heaven help me, I'm really back. I pray that Kenta wasn't terribly harmed. I pray that his _family_ wasn't terribly harmed...'_

Kenta put him in a cell reserved for political prisoners and petty criminals and locked the door behind him. "There's some water for bathing. Your father gave orders that you're to be brought to him at two tomorrow. Other than that, he keeps his own council."

It was kindness from someone who owed him nothing but resentment, and Yumichika was grateful for it.

"Thank you, Kenta," he said, the force of his dread making him a reserved shadow of himself. "Thank you."

Kenta left him, then, alone in the dim cell. Yumichika settled on the mats, his thoughts returning to Ikkaku over and over. Those headhunters would keep their word, he knew, but it didn't make him worry any less. If and when Ikkaku realized he'd gone missing, the stubborn fool would certainly do his best to retrieve Yumichika.

And however much a fool he was for falling in love with Madarame Ikkaku, he was certainly not big enough a fool to think that Daichi would show Ikkaku any mercy.

He swallowed hard at just the thought, willing tears away. Now that he was here, back in his father's hands, his terror was so encompassing and sustained that he felt like he could faint, however ugly it would be. He thought of his father's fierce temper, of how cruel he could be when he was riled. His outrage had fueled him when he'd left, but he'd only sustained his defiance by refusing to think of his father's fury. When he'd left, he never had any intention of returning because he knew that his family would revile him and humiliate him more than a marriage to that ugly princess would ever have done. Now that he faced the reality of being brought to his father's twisted form of justice, he could hardly concentrate on anything but that awful, terrified dread. When it got too overpowering, he made himself think of the first time he'd seen Ikkaku, of how the boy had vowed to avenge his whipping, and a measure of his fear would ebb.

When the shadows grew long, creeping from the solitary slit of a window at the top of the cell, Yumichika heard the door to the hall unlock and creak open. He composed himself, sitting neatly despite his ugly, unkempt appearance. It was the very picture of serenity that he presented to his visitor when they came, but his surprise startled him out of his carefully cultivated pose.

"_Elder Brother_!" he gasped.

"Kanesuke, you look...you look _terrible_," Elder Brother said with a soft, fond smile. "I don't think I've ever seen you so undone. Was it...was it awful out there?"

"Elder Brother...yes, it was," he quietly said, reality reasserting itself to drain his happiness once more. "But not always...in fact, hardly at all."

Elder Brother abandoned his dignity to sit on the floor outside of the cell, paying his little brother avid attention.

"Elder Brother, how much does Father know?" Yumichika softly asked, anxious.

"Ah, well, your other brothers and I, we decided among us to...well...to _moderate_ what information reached the old man's ears," Elder Brother said, heaving a soft, amused sigh. "As ill as he is, we didn't want to risk worsening his condition with inconsequential details like names or descriptions. I assume that you ask out of concern for your friends? They _were_ your friends, were they not, Kanesuke?"

"Yes," Yumichika said, nodding, tears welling in his large, violet eyes. "They were my friends. They were my only friends..."

"Ah, Kanesuke, how clever you are! I don't think we would ever have found you if she hadn't sent word," Elder Brother said, shaking his head. At the stunned disbelief he saw on his little brother's face, he said, "The Proprietress of the House of Open Roses, Kanesuke. She's the one who told us where you were."

"B...but...but Elder Brother," Yumichika faintly protested. "No, she promised to keep me safe..."

"She's amended her dealings with this house over the past few months, but once we confirmed that you were the one we were looking for, she agreed to have one of our people join her staff," Elder Brother said. "Apparently, she was more interested in separating you from one of her admirers than anything else. But tell me of your adventures, Kanesuke."

Yumichika smiled a little, asking, "Elder Brother, if a young man named Madarame Ikkaku comes here, will you send him away before father sees him? Please, it's very important to me that no harm comes to him. You'll know him when you meet him, he's very...well, he's one of a kind."

"Is he a part of your adventures, Kanesuke?" Elder Brother confirmed with a smile. "I promise you, little brother, if I see a boy going by the name of Madarame Ikkaku, I will make sure he leaves the grounds before father even knows that he's here. He should be able to get away unscathed if he shows up anytime soon. Our brothers have returned to the Stealth Force with their people, and most of the Clan militia is out on an exercise, so we're spread too thin to give much chase right now."

"Thank you," Yumichika said, and bowed to him.

"Now, Kanesuke, tell me all of your adventures, and maybe tomorrow won't seem so scary, hm?"

It came with less difficulty than Yumichika imagined it would. He told Elder Brother everything, from the moment he left this house in a fury of offended dignity to the moment he ran out into the garden in his _tabi_ to find out what had happened to Ikkaku. He was careful not to mention the nature of his feelings for the bald, rough youth, and his brother seemed to take it as a child's hero-worship, thinking him a fine, frighteningly brave young man.

"What an amazing life you've had this year!" Elder Brother declared it, impressed. "Ah, what I wouldn't give to have lived a second of it, Kanesuke! You brave boy!"

Yumichika took the praise with a weary smile, stifling a yawn at the late hour. "Elder Brother...why are you being so kind to me?"

Elder Brother sighed again, his wide shoulders shifting slightly, his own dark blue eyes thoughtful. "Because you're the only one among us who had the nerve to defy him, Kanesuke, and I admire you for it...And I'm afraid...I'm afraid that after tomorrow, I won't have the chance to hear your stories."

The fear came creeping back, cold and clinging, sliding its icy fingers up his spine.

"Get some rest, Kanesuke," Elder Brother gently said, rising gracefully to his feet. "I'll be sure you get a bath in the morning, and have the servants make you presentable for Father after the noon meal. Goodnight, Kanesuke. It was...it was fascinating, hearing those tales of your adventures with that fellow, Ikkaku. He sounds like he's quite the character."

"He is," Yumichika said. "Good night, Elder Brother."

"Sleep well, Kanesuke," Elder Brother told him. "And if tomorrow is as bad as it might be, just remember that there are those of us who _do_ care for you, little brother."

That said, Yumichika was left to pass the rest of the night alone, curling up on his mat and shivering with the chill, longing for Ikkaku and falling into restless dreams of life at the Open Rose.

* * *

True to his word, Elder Brother ordered the servants to assist Yumichika in bathing, and provided him with the same type of lavish clothing that Ikkaku had been so disdainful of.

'_And for a person of _my_ standing, it's a sign that you're as stupid as you are rich, and you need robbing_...'

With all the somber stateliness of a funeral procession, Yumichika was once more walked down that long hallway and into the presence of his Clan head, the man whose will he had defied for over a year.

All eyes were on him, but he was relieved that his brothers who had joined the Stealth Force were not present. Elder Brother had assured him that they had made their excuses for duty, and had returned with their men to their headquarters. Still, it left a sizeable number of anxious, watchful eyes to witness, including every single one of the serving staff.

"Well, at long last, you have returned, Kanesuke," Ichigawa Daichi said, his voice raspy with age and the sickness that had so often ravaged him and turned his temper unbearable.

Yumichika straightened his back and lifted his hands, exposing his slender wrists bound by cord. "It is clear to all who have come to witness my punishment that I did _not_ return, but _was_ returned."

Daichi's brows drew down in a thunderous scowl and he boomed, "Have you misplaced your manners as well as your mind? Who here has granted you the right to speak to me? _Kneel_!"

Yumichika stood there for a moment, but the force of his father's power overwhelmed him, and he sank to his knees with a mutinous expression on his face, preparing for another caning, waiting with a pounding heart for his father to reveal what retribution he'd planned.

"You have disgraced this family with your actions, Kanesuke. You have lost your right to the Ichigawa name and you will be reduced to the lowest member of this household," Daichi said, diving straight to the point without hesitation.

Yumichika - because he _was_ Yumichika and would always be in his heart - accepted those words without reacting. He'd left here as the lowest member of the _family_, the only lessening of his status could be to make him the lowest servant. It was not such a terrible thing to be done.

"In order to properly chastise you for your disobedience you will be caned in the public courtyard every day before the eyes of all Clan members. To make you a suitable example to others who consider emulating such disgraceful behavior, in the space of one month's time you will be sold into labor at the salt quarry, where you will spend the rest of your days in penitent consideration of your sins. If you do not accept your sentence, if you resist in any way, then you will be put to death and your name will be forever erased from the history of our Clan."

Yumichika gaped at him, certain he couldn't have heard correctly.

"F...father..."

"You have lost your right to address me as such," his father said, stoic and stiff. "You will obey your Clan head, Kanesuke. And if you cannot, then you will be disposed of immediately. I have other sons than you..."

"_Father_!"

Yumichika couldn't believe what he was hearing! Slavery? A _death sentence_ for running away?

"_Let me _through_, I said! Yumichika_!"

"What is the meaning of this?" his father demanded, looking up as the doors burst open and one very pissed, very bald, very uncouth young man stormed into their meeting with a menacing scowl on his lean face.

"_You_!" he said, pointing his sheathed sword at Yumichika's father. "I want to talk to you!"

"Guards!"

"I think we got most of them," Ikkaku said, grinning. He noticed Yumichika then, and said, "Hey, Yumichika. You okay?"

He was too astounded to even nod, his violet eyes wide and shocked, his heart galloping in a mixture of thrilled elation and growing fear that Ikkaku really _would_ die before his eyes.

"Anyway, they won't be coming. I wanna talk to you, Yumichika's dad."

"I know no such person," Daichi growled, though he well knew what name his prodigal son had been living under. Elder Brother looked at a loss, but faintly relieved, if Yumichika could hazard a guess.

"Er..._him_," Ikkaku said, aiming the sword at Yumichika. "Whatever you called him, he's Yumichika for me. I heard you got plans to get rid of him, so I wanted to make a deal with you."

Daichi chuckled, then, thoroughly amused to be propositioned by a loud, rude fool who seemed to think he had some type of upper hand.

"Look, you're mad, I get it," Ikkaku lazily said, waving one hand in a dismissive way. "But consider the kid, will you? Do you _know_ how much he would hate not being here? You got any idea of how much he's complained since he's left? _I_ know - I'm the one who's had to hear it!"

"Ikkaku!" Yumichika was equal parts appalled that the boy was saying such things and embarrassed that his father was hearing such blatant lies.

"He's miserable. You wanna punish him, then send him back with me. I'll make him work, won't I? I'll make sure you never hear from him again. I'll keep him from coming back around. You can tell people you killed him or whatever, I don't care."

"How I discipline my son is no business of anyone's but _mine_," Daichi snapped, and aimed a withering look at Elder Brother, who looked fairly caught out. "I went to great lengths to get Kanesuke back. Why should I hand him to you?"

Ikkaku cocked his head, momentarily bewildered by the use of the unfamiliar name. But he recovered quickly, saying, "Easy, I can pay you for him."

The silence was utterly stifling.

Ikkaku slid his hand into his shirt and withdrew the bulging pouch of money that he'd accumulated from his fights. He tossed it on the floor in front of Daichi, and then fished out another.

"You get this, I get the brat, yeah?" Ikkaku asked.

Daichi stared at this brash intruder for a long, silent, tense moment, and then unexpectedly began to laugh.

"Eh? What's funny?" Ikkaku asked, his face downright thunderous as he scowled at the seated old man.

"You think two bags of coin can purchase even the lowest of my servants?" Daichi asked, thoroughly amused.

"I think two bags of coin are two more bags than you had before, minus one pain in the ass, is what," Ikkaku baldly said. "Just give him to me. If you don't, I'm taking him and the money both. You choose."

"Tell me, boy," Daichi said, stroking his beard, his voice a low crack of authority. "Why would you come here for someone like Kanesuke?"

"Eh? Why would I?" Ikkaku repeated, restlessly tapping his sheathed sword against his shoulder as he considered it. "He owes me a fight, and I won't let him vanish until he pays up."

Yumichika caught his breath, thinking that Ikkaku could have landed on no better explanation if he'd been given an age to think on it. Whatever Daichi found in the exchange, Yumichika could not say, but the fact of the matter was that his father had been willing to sell him into slavery at a salt mine, and now had the option to sell him to someone who was obviously and dangerously out of his mind.

Daichi's eyes slid to one side, and like magic a scribe appeared, startling Ikkaku, who feigned not to care.

"This is a most unexpected occurrence, Kanesuke," Daichi growled, but markedly did not look at Yumichika. "Perhaps the gods have smiled on you today; I find it _amusing_ that my wayward, willful son will become the property of this violent and rude creature."

"F...father?"

It was Elder Brother who spoke. Yumichika realized that _he_ should not. If he did speak, his relief would be apparent, and then his father would toss Ikkaku out on his ear and banish Yumichika to the lowest levels of serving hell until the date of his sale.

"As a warning to future generations of the Ichigawa clan, let it be recorded that for breaking the laws of nobility our Clan has sworn to uphold, Ichigawa Kanesuke, youngest son of Daichi, Clan Head, was sold on this thirteenth day of Falling Blossoms to the fate of slavery. This sale is considered banishment for life - never again will the name Kanesuke be uttered in our lands, and his existence will be blackened in our family history."

Those terrible, cold eyes landed on Yumichika then.

"_This_ is the fate that awaits those who disrespect and disobey their Clan Head and Master," he said. "What is your name, boy?"

"Madarame Ikkaku," the youth said, following the proceedings with glowering disapproval.

"Write up two deeds of sale for the body of Ichigawa Kanesuke, also known as Ayasegawa Yumichika, to the person of Madarame Ikkaku," the older man said, and then leaned forward to open up the nearest bag of coins. With deliberate concentration, he pulled forth a single _Kan_ and held it up. "At the cost of one _Kan_."

Ikkaku was glaring at the old man with such venom that Yumichika almost feared he'd lash out and kill him anyway, but that fear was lost in a sudden and overwhelming rush of hurt when his father laughed again and said, "I am a fair man. I'll only ask what he's worth."

'_What he's worth_...'

"_Heh_?" Ikkaku drove his foot so hard into the bags of coins that they scattered all over the floor, some of them rolling to rest against the scribe's table. "_I_ am a fair man - but since I don't _have_ all that he's worth, I'll have to settle on giving you everything I can claim. Come on, Yumichika, let's go."

He was struck dumb by his father's cruel remark, so much so that he couldn't make sense of Ikkaku's words. When the youth moved to his side and forcefully dragged him to his feet, he only barely managed to stay on them, swaying hard when Ikkaku tore the bindings off of his wrists.

'_What he's worth...what he's worth...what he's worth..._'

"Don't forget your purchase paperwork," Daichi said, gloating at the lost, horrified look on Yumichika's face. Ikkaku snatched the hastily written and sanded scroll from the scribe and stuffed it into his sash, still contemplating murder. "Remember, Kanesuke - when life has beaten the last of your will from you, it is only what you earned with your stubborn and self-serving nature. Now, strike his name from our line and enter his fate in the book of our histories."

"_Father_!" Yumichika cried, stumbling as Ikkaku dragged him away. "_Father_! Please! You can't mean that!"

His father merely smirked at his distress, and tossed that single _Kan_ into the air with smug satisfaction.

"Come on, Yumichika, the others will have gone back by now. I told them to scatter as soon as I was inside," Ikkaku lowly said, hefting him off of his feet and barreling out of the mansion at full speed. "Those guards of his, they were _tough_."

"Father!"

His last view of the Ichigawa grounds was through the sheen of his tears as he cried, his boyish, peacock-like pride utterly crushed by his father's carefully chosen words.

'_A single _Kan...' It kept circling through his head, the sum of his worth to his family, the sum of his worth to the world.

"Heh, you're heavier than you look," Ikkaku said, stopping next to the small brook that crossed the boundary of the Ichigawa lands and lowering Yumichika into the shade of a tall tree. "You okay, Yumichika?"

"A _Kan_," he whispered, covering his face, sitting limply where Ikkaku had put him.

"More like two million of them," Ikkaku said, still standing, too restless by far to stop and be calm. "That was everything we've earned."

"I'm only _worth_ a _Kan_!" Yumichika sobbed, his wide violet eyes huge and horrified. "_I'm only worth a Kan_!"

"_Shut up_! You're _not_, I said!" Ikkaku shouted, baring his white teeth. "Don't listen to him, what does _he_ know? He doesn't even know your name!"

"_He's my father_!" Yumichika shrieked, surging to his feet, his small but capable fists pounding on Ikkaku's chest so hard that he forced the material of his kimono open. "Whose opinion matters if not _his_?!"

"_Mine_!" Ikkaku roared, trapping his fists, his fury dissolving into concern when Yumichika burst into sobs. "Er...eh..._Here, now_! Stop crying, I said! He doesn't know anything! I paid all of that for you, didn't I? And I'd pay a lot more if I had it, wouldn't I?"

"Why would you?" Yumichika wept. "What am _I_ worth?"

"_Eh_? What's this talk, then? You know what you're worth, brat!" Ikkaku loudly scolded him. "Why would I go to such trouble if you weren't? You're lucky you're so valuable, Yumichika! And I'm lucky your father fell for it."

He grinned at Yumichika, trying to cajole him into smiling.

"Lucky, yeah? Luh-_key_," he said, drawing the word out, doing a ridiculous little wriggle that had the desired effect of surprising a small, choked laugh out of his distraught companion. "Luh-key! Luh-luh-luh-_key_!"

He kept up his sing-song chant and performed an impromptu dance that was ridiculous enough to make Yumichika laugh in mingled horror and delight.

"You like it? It's my Lucky Dance!" Ikkaku said, beaming at him. "I made it up just now."

"I can tell," Yumichika managed, still torn between laughter and tears. "It's just...indescribable..."

Ikkaku took it as praise. "See? It's not as bad as all that," he said, reaching out to brush away Yumichika's tears, his touch surprisingly gentle. Even more surprising was the sure, protective way he pulled Yumichika to his chest and held him there, safe in the circle of his arms. "I'll take care of you, Yumichika, I said. Don't cry anymore. You're in a league of your own and you know it, brat - don't let that bitter old prune cloud the truth."

"I...Ikkaku..."

He hesitantly lifted his arms and wrapped them around Ikkaku's waist, reassured by the lean warmth of him, by the solid reality of him, his heart finally beating again because Ikkaku was near.

"I'll always take care of you, Yumichika," Ikkaku said, boastful and loud, so rough around the edges but so kind all the same, so unlike any other person Yumichika had ever met before. "So don't cry anymore. We're lucky, Yumichika. We're Luh-_key_."

Yumichika nodded, stepping back to straighten Ikkaku's disarranged clothes, reluctant to let him go. "I'm sorry for losing my temper. Thank you...thank you for taking care of me, Ikkaku."

"You're welcome, brat," Ikkaku said, grinning his wild, wide grin. "Come on, let's get away from here. I don't trust that man."

Yumichika nodded, drying his face on his sleeve.

"Here," Ikkaku said, turning his back to Yumichika and crouching a little. "I'll carry you for awhile, until you perk up a bit."

He wouldn't take no for an answer, and so Yumichika gracefully climbed onto his wiry back, surprised that it was so comfortable. He wrapped his arms across Ikkaku's chest and rested his chin on the boy's shoulder, exhausted and weary in his soul.

"Thank you, Ikkaku," he murmured, soothed by his familiar presence, secure in the safety Ikkaku offered.

"_Heh_? You don't have to thank me, brat!" Ikkaku said, carrying Yumichika as if he weighed no more than the sword through his sash. In a softer tone, he added, "We're friends, Yumichika. If we don't take care of each other, who will?"

"How did you find me?" Yumichika asked, his fingers kneading a bit, assuring him that Ikkaku was here in the flesh.

"The same way that _they_ found _you_," Ikkaku said, his voice a low growl. "The Old Lady told me. You know, that girl of hers, Rin, she's Stealth Force. _Heh_, how could I have missed _that_!"

"Ikkaku, I don't want to go back," Yumichika softly said, closing his eyes to savor the nearness of him, the warmth he'd been missing. "I don't want - "

"Ah, shut up, brat," Ikkaku fondly said, shrugging him up higher. "We won't go back there. The Old Lady, she pissed me off with this last play of hers. She's lucky I didn't kill her. At least she let me borrow her men to help get you out of there."

"She hates me, why would she do that?"

"Because she owed me," Ikkaku said, his voice falling to a vibrant purr. "And she hoped I'd come back with them. Ah, well, I was getting bored there, anyway! Now, at least, we don't have to hide from your father."

Yumichika hitched softly, still stinging from his father's unkind estimation of his worth.

"But I worry about you, Yumichika, eh?" Ikkaku said, careful not to jostle him. "If you ever want to go back there, I'll take you."

"_No_!" Yumichika breathed, clinging. "I'll go with you wherever you go, Ikkaku! Like you said, if we don't take care of one another, who will?"

Ikkaku laughed softly at that, then said in a quiet voice, "Sorry I didn't come see you that day, Yumichika. I should have told you I had to leave the district for a little while. I thought you'd be there when I got back, but I should have told you all the same."

Yumichika tucked his face against his forearm to hide his tears, but squeezed Ikkaku fiercely all the same. "It doesn't matter, Ikkaku. You're never gone for long, remember?"

"What's it feel like Yumichika?" Ikkaku asked, making him freeze. "To be free of that place, I mean."

He nearly wilted in relief, saying with a whisper of breathlessness, "It feels wonderful, Ikkaku. But not as wonderful as knowing you're here."

"Stupid," Ikkaku fondly called him, striding along at a ground-eating pace, the hilt of his sword thumping Yumichika's knee. "I'm glad too, brat."

Ikkaku carried him clear to the next town over before he decided to stop.

"Er, hm...which one...Hey, Yumichika," he said, jostling him to get his attention. "Which one of these you want to stay at, eh?"

"An Inn?" Yumichika blankly asked, looking at the two places facing one another over a neat, brick road. "Either, Ikkaku, but - "

"This one, then," Ikkaku decided, heading towards his pick.

"But how will we stay here?" Yumichika asked. "You gave my father everything we had."

"Not _everything_," Ikkaku said, lowering him to the ground. "I still have the money from your kimono."

"What? B...but you said I was worth - "

"Everything _I_ had, I said!" Ikkaku said, cutting him off. "That money isn't mine, Yumichika - it came from selling _your_ clothing. It's _your_ money. Now, do you want to spend some of it on this place for the night until I can make us some more?"

"Are you telling me that you've been carrying that around the whole time and not spending it?" Yumichika asked, thinking with horror of all the things he'd demanded, all of the things Ikkaku had bought for him. He would never have been so careless with their money if he'd known for a second that it wasn't coming from his own resources. "_Ikkaku_! Everything I've asked you for - "

"_Shut up_!" Ikkaku cut in. "I'll take care of you, I said. That's just part of it."

Yumichika just stared at him, overwhelmed. Ikkaku wasn't looking at him, he kept his head cocked arrogantly away, a sure sign that he was uncertain of himself. Ikkaku wasn't a young man to be self-conscious about anything, and he certainly didn't lack confidence, but he seemed unsure of Yumichika's response. The fact that he even cared was enough to make Yumichika's heart stammer in its rhythm, and the younger boy took a step closer to his friend.

"Ikkaku..."

"Eh?"

He didn't mean to, but he burst into tears.

Ikkaku's grey eyes widened, panic replacing his uncertainty. He hesitantly placed both strong hands on Yumichika's slim shoulders and shook him a little.

"Hey, _hey_! No crying! No _crying_, I said!" Ikkaku fiercely told him, stooping a little to meet his eyes. "_Yumichika_! Why are you crying, eh?"

"B...because...because you're just...just..."

Ikkaku blushed, unused to tears, or the stammered beginnings of pitiful compliments.

"Here, here, now," he urged, awkwardly swiping his hand down Yumichika's face to dry his tears. "Twice in one day."

"It's been a terrible day," Yumichika told him, adding his own hand to Ikkaku's efforts.

"_Heh_?" Ikkaku asked, giving him an exaggerated look of disbelief. "You've escaped being married off to a homely princess and been rescued from your father's house. Not to mention that you were carried all the way here. I'd say this day has been pretty good, eh? Now dry up, we'll have some food and sleep a night and everything will be fine tomorrow. You'll see."

He made it sound so simple, but for Ikkaku it probably was. Nothing truly fazed him, nothing stymied him for long, and nothing could depress him. Every downward turn in their luck was a chance to overcome something, a challenge to be met, an opportunity to do better. Where Yumichika saw nothing but bleak despair, Ikkaku saw a moment that would pass and become a vague memory.

"Let's get ourselves cleaned up and fed, yeah?" Ikkaku urged, taking one last swipe at his face to get an errant tear. "I'll pay it back to you tomorrow."

"No!" Yumichika protested, shaking his head, adamant. "It's _ours_, Ikkaku! I can't believe you haven't been using it all this time! Promise me it's ours!"

Ikkaku just stared at him for a long moment before breaking into his familiar, wide grin.

"Alright, brat," he said, ruffling Yumichika's hair with his long fingers. "It's ours, then. But only in emergencies."

"_Ikkaku_!" Yumichika cried when the boy moved off. "That's _not what I meant_!"

"_Shut up, I said_!" Ikkaku called back to him. "And get a move on!"

Yumichika couldn't help but smile, because he couldn't have loved Ikkaku more in that moment if he'd tried.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Thank you, everyone, for your support and reviews! I really appreciate it! I'll try to answer everyone individually as I go :) Sorry for not posting this yesterday, July 4th holiday and all. Hope you enjoy the rest of the story!**_

* * *

For the first time in what felt like too long, Yumichika slept curled in the curve of Ikkaku's lean body. Despite the comforting nearness of the young man he loved, he had formless nightmares full of dread, of fear, of a terrible inability to escape something crushing and cruel. Sometimes it was his father. Other times, it hid itself inside Ikkaku himself, telling him over and over, '_What does she think I'm doing with you, eh? Like she doesn't know my tastes by now_...'

He woke on the verge of a broken-hearted sob, silent tears coursing down his cheeks. The room was bright with daylight, a cheerful setting that only made the ache in his chest more keen.

'_I can't mistake him_,' he thought, wiping his eyes with discretion lest he wake Ikkaku and be forced to explain his tears. '_Whatever I feel for him...maybe it will pass? Maybe, if I ignore it, it will cease to exist_...'

Ikkaku made a low, raspy sound behind him, partially a growl, like he was dreaming of fighting. It took everything in him not to yelp when Ikkaku blindly nuzzled his ear and followed a soft bite to the side of his throat with an absent kiss. Yumichika lay frozen against the curve of his chest and belly, his eyes widening so much that they threatened to pop out of his head. Terror and elation once more tugged him in different directions, but his heart didn't pay them any mind - it raced in his chest, pounding hard in triumph, relief, and joy.

The heavy, lax hand tucked over Yumichika's waist slid up, then, moving to the boy's small but muscular chest.

And _that_ was when Ikkaku opened his eyes and once more trampled on something he didn't realize was even there.

"_Eh_? What the - ?! Ah, sorry, Yumichika," the youth said, his voice even more raspy with sleep, his hand dropping from Yumichika's chest. "I'm not used to waking up to you. I thought you were someone else."

"You_ idiot_!" Yumichika hissed, his teeth clenched. He jerked away from Ikkaku's loose embrace and sat up, turning to pummel him with fists that did damage far in excess of their size and delicacy. "_Stupid! Stupid_!"

"Hey! _Hey_! I'm _sorry_, I said!" Ikkaku shouted, lifting one lazy forearm to block Yumichika's furious fists. "Don't get so mad, Yumichika! I didn't realize it was you!"

That just served to infuriate him more, and Yumichika stood to kick him with one bare foot before flouncing away, scared that he might try to do Ikkaku bodily harm.

"How _dare_ you, you idiot!" Yumichika fumed, outraged over it. That overgrown excuse for a man, groping him in the morning like it was the most natural thing in the world and then _telling him it was a mistake_?! It was too much to bear, truly! "For your information, _I_ got used to not sleeping next to _you_!"

"Oh? Ah, well, you're too old for it, anyway," Ikkaku said, sitting up with a shrug and rubbing one hand over his bald head. "A boy your age should be able to sleep alone."

"I didn't say I was _alone_," Yumichika tartly told him, suddenly inspired. Ikkaku wasn't the only one who could have..._dalliances_!

"Eh? _You_?!" Ikkaku asked, as if it was the most unreasonable suggestion in the world, or so laughably impossible that the sheer idea of it was ridiculous. "_Who_?!"

"What an ugly conversation," Yumichika declared it, poking his nose into the air and crossing his arms over his molested chest, blushing at the memory of Ikkaku kissing his throat.

"_You_ started it," Ikkaku pointed out, rising to his feet with fluid grace, the light throwing shadows on the ridges of his belly beneath the half-open layers of his underclothes. "What a stupid thing to yell about! _Heh_!"

A scratch at the door spared Yumichika from answering.

"Yes?"

"There is a messenger here to see one Ayasegawa Yumichika," she said, cracking the door slightly before hastily retreating in the face of Ikkaku's undress. "Do you wish to see him?"

"Yes, send him in," Yumichika ordered, desperate for a distraction.

It was Kenta, bearing a bundled package and a much-worn smile.

"Kenta! What are you doing here?" Yumichika asked, hastening to divest the man of his small load, giving his shoulders a squeeze in the only form of affection he'd ever been able to show. "How did you find us?"

"Lord Kenji had one of the men trail you," Kenta said, naming Yumichika's Eldest Brother. "He sent me here with these things for you, because they are yours."

"Kenta," Yumichika said, kneeling to be eye-to-eye with him. "I am so very sorry that my escape did you harm. Can you forgive me?"

Kenta smiled at him, saying, "Young Master, your father grows less bearable the sicker he becomes. Master Kenji does his best to mitigate the damage, and in my case he prevented the worst that could happen. He has promised me a bit of land and a house of my own once your father has passed, as thanks for my long service to your House. So, yes, little Lord Kanesuke, I forgive you, and if you hadn't run, I would have found a way to help you escape. I am only sorry that you didn't ask."

He looked at Ikkaku, then, who hadn't bothered to do more than pull on his House _hakama_.

"Sir, I beg you, deal gently with him," Kenta said, earnest. "He has always been a noble, whatever place he may have hidden. He is unused to difficulties, and should not be abused."

"Eh?" Ikkaku asked, his expression growing thunderous. Before the youth could erupt in an explosion of shouting, Yumichika softly told Kenta, "Madarame Ikkaku has always taken very good care of me..._some_ instances notwithstanding," he followed that with a glare from the corners of his eyes that actually made Ikkaku blush and scowl. "He is never purposefully unkind."

"Master, Lord Kanesuke," Kenta said, lowering his voice so that Ikkaku strained to hear him, reluctantly curious. "He is...he is your master, now. Be pleasant in all things, restrain your temper, and do your best to please him so that he remembers you well. It is always within his power to sell you again..."

"Thank you," Yumichika murmured, realizing that he was right. Ikkaku had tossed the scroll of paper down last night and didn't seem inclined to bother with it, but it was a deed of sale all the same, however meaningless it might be. "I'll remember. Please, carry my thanks to Eldest Brother, and wish the family well."

"What a stupid thing to tell me!" Ikkaku said when Kenta left. He looked bewildered and offended, and ready to start a fight just to have something else to focus on. "Like I care that your father sold you! _Heh_! _Stupid_! You know that's stupid, Yumichika, eh? You can't buy a person with money. You belong to _you_, Yumichika, and I don't care _what_ that paper says!"

"_He_ doesn't know that! And you can't blame him for thinking you're a dangerous barbarian," Yumichika pointed out, gesturing at Ikkaku's loosened clothing, which revealed his powerful build and myriad scars. "You look like a criminal, Ikkaku! And you glare at everyone, it makes them think you're cruel. A cruel, mannerless, barbarian _criminal_."

"Keep it up, brat," Ikkaku warned, shamed into casting around for his short House kimono. "And I'll _pound _you!"

Yumichika's level glare only made him more irritated, but the younger boy turned away from him to open the package that Eldest Brother had sent.

"He sent it!" Yumichika cried, gleefully lifting his beloved sword out of the open canvas. "Ah! If only just this, _that_ would be enough! But look, Ikkaku, he sent the kimono you got me as well, and some _Kan_!"

Ikkaku had donned his short kimono and came over at a slow saunter, tucking in the tails to tighten his _hakama_ ties. His grey gaze was troubled as he crouched, his fine fingers sorting through what Eldest Brother had sent, which was graciously in excess of what Yumichika had arrived with.

"What do you want to do with it?" Yumichika asked, tying his reclaimed feathers in his loose hair. It was a reasonable question, considering they didn't have a place to live, and people without a home didn't _have_ belongings.

"_Why ask me_?" Ikkaku flared, blushing again and uncomfortable. "This isn't _mine_ to deal with! You belong to _you_, Yumichika, I said!"

"Ikkaku, whatever you think, there's a piece of paper that says otherwise," Yumichika told him, just to be perverse. "Until I can purchase my freedom from you, I'll always be yours..."

'_I'll always be yours_...' It startled him as much as it did Ikkaku, both of them staring at one another in surprise. Yumichika knew in his heart that it was true - even if Ikkaku burned the paper, even if he bought his own freedom, even if he _died_, he would always belong to Ikkaku. It might be full of unfilled longing and regrets, he might rage against it until he thought his soul would fracture, he might consign himself to having his heart broken over and over in all the myriad ways that Ikkaku could thoughtlessly contrive - but the simple truth was, at nearly fourteen years old, Yumichika belonged entirely to Ikkaku.

And he did so whether either of them wanted it or _not_.

"Stupid," Ikkaku quietly said, and for once he was the first to look away. "Pack it tightly; I'll carry it."

"Ikkaku - "

"I'll _carry_ it, I said!" Ikkaku flared, turning his head to glare down at the smaller boy, just _daring_ him to say anything. "That man thinks I'll abuse you, _eh_? As if I didn't carry you so far! As if I wasn't willing to fight every single guard at your father's house just to get to you! These things are precious to you, Yumichika, and I've promised to take care of you, so _I will_!"

It was vaguely alarming how quickly he could forgive his anger at Ikkaku, how quickly the young man could slip back under his guard and into his good graces without even trying. With an ill-repressed smile, Yumichika said, "Thank you, Ikkaku, for caring for what it precious to me."

"Er...yeah, well, if I have to carry this then _you're walking_," Ikkaku declared, looking arrogantly away as he always did when Yumichika had managed to affect him in a way he wasn't quite sure of. "You damned brat!"

"I intended to, you idiot!" Yumichika said, quickly bundling the items up except for the pinwheel kimono, which he exchanged for the one he'd been wearing. He paused, then, and looked up at the youth who _had_ dared a Manor House full of guards to rescue him. Very softly, he said once more, "Thank you, Ikkaku...for everything."

Those grey eyes turned to his in startled surprise, but instead of his usual deflection, Ikkaku lowly said, "Not too much, Yumichika...not too much, eh?"

"I won't," he promised, hefting the bundle into Ikkaku's arms. "Let me dress, and then we can go."

"Ah," Ikkaku sighed, standing, arranging the bundle to sling it across his body. "And go where, now?"

Yumichika donned the kimono, realizing that he'd grown since they'd purchased it, and not just in the flesh. He settled his sword at his hip and tied back his hair before moving to Ikkaku's side.

"I guess we can go anywhere we want," he said.

Ikkaku grinned at that and headed out, saying, "Come on, brat."

It didn't matter to Yumichika where they were going because he knew one thing was true - wherever Madarame Ikkaku might wander, Yumichika would be right at his side.

* * *

Yumichika grew, finally, but he never managed to catch up to Ikkaku, who remained a full head taller than him. Yet he wasn't unhappy all the same. Ikkaku had a build worthy of envy, but Yumichika enjoyed his own willowy grace and the power of his slender figure. They made quite a pair as they drifted through Rukongai, but being idle didn't settle well on either of them, and Ikkaku's frustration made his hair-trigger temper flare at the least provocation.

"No one wants to fight you after this, you know," Yumichika told him, watching Ikkaku rise from his crouch, wiping at his bloodied nose. "These people aren't savages."

"Well, they had _me_ fooled," Ikkaku growled, stepping over the man's splayed body to stand before Yumichika. They had reached that age of long youth, where the body had finally matured enough to allow the focus to fall on other things. Yumichika knew from his own family that such a span of time could encompass centuries or even millenniums depending on the spirit pressure of the soul. But if all the time he had with Ikkaku was mere centuries, it was still far too little...

"Eh? You changed," Ikkaku said, noticing the new kimono that Yumichika wore. It was a daring shade of lavender so light it was almost white, scattered all over with red pinwheels and green leaves in as close a replica of his old one as possible. He'd outgrown it, finally, and had reluctantly given it away. "It's like your other, eh?"

"Yes, I thought so," Yumichika said, preening despite the stench of blood and the haze of odor that surrounded this particular settlement. He pushed his hair back again, and smiled at Ikkaku. "Are you done? You didn't kill him, did you?"

"Nah, he didn't have a weapon, just that club," Ikkaku said, almost mournfully. They were in the minority, though, of people who had weapons. Most everyone was too poor to afford them and had no need of them anyway. The only way to fight as Ikkaku loved was to return to the matches offered by the Mistress of the Open Rose, and neither of them were willing to do that. "You know, you owe me a fight, Yumichika."

"Ah? Do I?" he lightly asked, knowing full well that he did. It seemed a thousand years ago that he'd told Ikkaku of his training to be in the Stealth Force, and the promise he'd made to one day fight the rangy young man. Now, now they were both grown men, but somehow the fight had fallen by the wayside. "Well, what a silly thing, anyway, Ikkaku. I don't want to get my new kimono dirty. And this place is just...well, it certainly isn't beautiful."

Ikkaku scowled at him. It was so ferocious that those who'd come to collect the fallen man decided that a retreat was in order, and scattered to leave the two men alone.

"Ah, such a scary face!" Yumichika chided, pleased when Ikkaku's scowl lessened to his familiar frown. "We'll have to go someplace worse, Ikkaku. We can't continue to make such a disturbance in these districts."

Ikkaku turned a thoughtful gaze east, where the gate of district thirty gave way to thirty-one.

"Hey, Yumichika," he said, his low voice carrying a familiar, soft purr. "Are you okay with it? Eh?"

"What a stupid question!" Yumichika lightly said, looking away because the fading light on Ikkaku's face turned his skin to gold and his eyes to silver fire. "If you decide to go there, I'll go with you, Ikkaku. After all this time, do you even need to ask?"

Ikkaku laughed, amused. "Nah, I guess not. You know, for a noble brat Prince, you've adapted better than I thought, Yumichika."

"It's because I'm so beautiful," Yumichika informed him, daring to look back, smiling when he found Ikkaku's eyes on him. "You're the only one who doesn't see it..."

"Heh, what good is it, eh? Being beautiful in an ugly place like this!" Ikkaku scoffed, casting a disparaging look around. "You're grown now, brat. I guess I did what I promised."

It alarmed Yumichika, as well it should. The more he'd grown, the better he'd become at fighting, the more capable he'd proven himself and the more Ikkaku had fallen back into the desire that Yumichika had first known him for.

The more time passed, the more Ikkaku hated this place and wanted to die.

And nothing Yumichika could do would sway him.

_That_ had the power to make him despair, knowing that his friendship, his companionship, his _love_ wasn't enough to make Ikkaku want to stay. He knew he meant _something_ to Ikkaku - otherwise, why would the man have bothered saving him all those years ago - but whatever it was...it simply wasn't _enough_.

"Don't say such things, Ikkaku," he softly said. He'd honed feigning indifference to a fine art, because to do otherwise would give reign to the chaotic feelings he had for Ikkaku, and he knew what the result would be. Ikkaku would turn from him in disgust, would reject him, or at the least would laugh at him for his nonsense and just...just walk away. "What would happen to me if you died?"

"Ah, who are you fooling, Yumichika?" Ikkaku asked, smirking wryly at him. "You can take care of yourself."

He headed off, and Yumichika called out, "Ikkaku! I've changed my mind!"

"Eh?" The rangy man turned around to look at him, the breeze toying with the light material of his short summer wear.

"That fight I promised you," Yumichika said, forcing himself into serene calm. "Are you ready?"

"Here?" Ikkaku questioned, his grin growing feral and sharp.

"It isn't beautiful, but I suppose there isn't any help for it," Yumichika lightly said, sighing prettily. Outwardly, he was composed - bored, even - but on the inside his heart was racing with fear and the aching need to give Ikkaku a reason to stay. "Would you rather wait, Ikkaku? Perhaps you need to let your wounds heal..."

"_Heh_!" Ikkaku laughed, pulling his sword free from his sash and swiping at his forehead again. "As if I'd need to do something so weak as _that_!"

"Ah, well, I offered," Yumichika said, and sprang at him.

He lacked Ikkaku's honing in the fights the Mistress had hosted, but if there was one person in the world he knew as well as himself, it was Madarame Ikkaku. He knew every nuance of his body language, every adaptive technique the man had ever developed. There wasn't a bend or curve to his body that Yumichika could not read like an open invitation, and while it didn't put him on the same level as Ikkaku, it allowed him to successfully hold his own for far longer than he would've thought.

"You've gotten better, Yumichika!" Ikkaku praised, the sheer strength of his strikes sending shockwaves through Yumichika's slender but powerful arms. "You weren't just boasting, eh?!"

"It isn't beautiful to brag," Yumichika told him, eyes narrowing when Ikkaku's blade didn't hit quite the distance it had just a moment before. He'd never known Ikkaku to grant quarter to anyone, but it was slowly dawning on him that the fierce warrior was doing something that Yumichika had never thought him capable of...

He was _hesitating_.

By the barest fraction, by the smallest amount, Ikkaku was pulling his strikes. Yumichika doubted that the bald fighter was even aware of it, but that didn't make it any less true.

'_Come now, beautiful boy, it isn't the brilliance of those tail feathers that graceful beast wants to see. It's your _talons...'

The voice was so clear, so vibrant, and so undeniably _not_ his own that Yumichika lost track of the fight for a split second. His mind filled with feathers and blossoms, curling vines and unfurling leaves as if a beautiful, lush garden had grown within his mind's eye.

'_Ah, if only you were as smart as you are beautiful_...'

He shook his head, the voice fading, and adjusted his grip on his sword. If there was one thing that he would forgive Ikkaku but Ikkaku wouldn't tolerate from _him_, it was granting quarter. He would have to press him, and hard, and use that hesitation to his advantage however unfair it felt.

"You're going to lose to me, Madarame Ikkaku," he softly said, gracefully avoiding the swing of that sheath, countering the blade that angled from the opposite side.

"What makes you think that, brat?" Ikkaku asked, baring his teeth in a fierce grin. He always looked so happy when he was fighting, because he was that much closer to getting what he wanted.

"Because unlike you, Ikkaku," Yumichika said, and took the slight opening offered in the wake of Ikkaku's movement. "_I won't hesitate_."

He struck true, driving the sword half its length through the ropy meat of Ikkaku's shoulder. He might as well have driven it through his own heart, the pain was so terrible, but this was the only way.

"Ah," Ikkaku said in a rough, low, pleased voice. "You're better than I thought, Yumichika. But you won't win."

Yumichika stood there, face to face with him, close enough to feel the heat of his body, the sticky warmth of Ikkaku's blood beginning a slow trickle down his blade.

"If I want, I'll win," Ikkaku said, grinning at him. "If I wanted you to, you'd finish me, eh?"

"Why would you think such a thing, Ikkaku?" Yumichika softly asked, wanting nothing more than to withdraw the blade, to offer Ikkaku a comfort that he would only impatiently reject.

There was an unusual twinkle in those beautiful grey eyes, and a wry, sad curve to Ikkaku's mouth when he rasped, "All I'd have to do was ask you for it, eh, Yumichika? When have you ever told me _no_?"

He _did_ withdraw the sword, then, doing so with a startled gasp, his head filled with soft, mocking laughter that wasn't his own. He recovered with a light huff and said in a voice that was far from steady, "How ugly! I can think of nothing more flawless, Ikkaku, than dying by my sword - what else would anyone rather see as their last image in life than my beautiful face looking back at them? - but you deserve far better a setting for that vision than a nasty, ugly alley."

Ikkaku laughed, the sound turning to a harsh growl as the pain hit. It didn't lessen his grin, however, because he'd told Yumichika countless times that the only thing that he could truly _feel_ was pain. Pain lasted. Pain left a mark to be remembered, something that laughter, that love, that happiness simply could not.

If that was all he could offer that Ikkaku would take, then he would give everything he could...

Yumichika drew his sword through his fingers, wiping off Ikkaku's warm blood. He sheathed it with care, his violet eyes on Ikkaku's lean face, and softly said, "You're bleeding everywhere, Ikkaku. Let's have that seen to."

"Oh? You're giving up?" Ikkaku goaded him, but there was no heat to his voice. He pressed his hand to the wound, hardly staunching the flow of blood, but his grin was victorious all the same.

"A graceful retreat is in order, I think," Yumichika told him, smiling serenely. "I've given you the fight I promised you, Ikkaku. I never promised you a beautiful ending."

What frightened Yumichika was the knowledge that Ikkaku was right - should he ever ask it of him, should Ikkaku demand it of him, then he would do it, however much it might hurt him, however much he might weep within and rage against it. What _wouldn't_ he do for Madarame Ikkaku?

If Ikkaku ever pushed him to do so, then Yumichika would provide him with his beautiful ending.


	8. Chapter 8

_**I took liberties with Yumichika's zanpakuto spirit with this explanation in mind: yes, it's true that we saw their human manifestations in the anime (which isn't canon anyway), but from what I saw not a single one of the soul reapers recognized their zanpakuto right away, which is argument enough for them not looking like they did in the Zanpakuto Rebellion arc. So Ruri'iro Kujaku's description is my own creation based on his name and Yumichika's personality. Hopefully, it won't piss anyone off too badly.**_

* * *

It wasn't the last time they fought one another, nor the last time that Yumichika heard that unsettling voice speaking to him. He wanted to ask Ikkaku if it was the same for him when his sword spoke, but he was afraid he'd sound like a lunatic. There was precious little that would goad Yumichika into putting himself in a position to be teased or made fun of. The thirteenth day of Falling Leaves was never far from his mind, and every action, every _thought_ was tainted by the knowledge that he was only worth a single _Kan_.

They had penetrated districts up to forty-five before Ikkaku felt satisfied enough to slow down. The ferocious, angry fighter found all the fights he could wish for, but when he wasn't fighting, he was doing something else that Yumichika found quite curious.

He was _sitting still_.

"What are you doing?" Yumichika asked him finally, having come back from what passed for a market to find Ikkaku perched atop a stack of crates, his legs folded neatly and his muscular body relaxed. "Ikkaku?"

One grey eye slit and the man said in his raspy voice, "Eh, Yumichika, be quiet, will you?"

"I just asked what you were doing," Yumichika said. "I was only trying to be polite! It isn't as if I care!"

Ikkaku's other eye opened and he zeroed in on what Yumichika had gone to trade for.

"What'd you go get, Yumichika?" Ikkaku asked, leaning forward a little to see it.

"N..._nothing_!" Yumichika flared, making an unsuccessful attempt to hide it in his sleeve. "It's a scroll case, that's all."

"_Eh_?!" Ikkaku slammed both hands down on his bare knees, outraged. "You didn't spend all your money on something for _that_, did you?! _Damn it, Yumichika_!"

_That_ was the deed of sale awarding Ikkaku ownership of Yumichika, and _that_ was a piece of paper that Ikkaku had attempted to destroy countless times over the years until Yumichika had taken to hiding it from him. No amount of explanation could properly convey how precious that paper was to him, or how safe he felt having it. In black ink on fine paper, printed neatly for all the world to see was the proof that his father had no control over him anymore. In a way, it was more a document professing freedom than it was one professing enslavement.

But there was no telling _Ikkaku_ that.

"What I choose to do with my things is not your business!" Yumichika smartly told him, hiding the elaborately carved scroll case between his underthings and his outer kimono. He'd had to spend a good deal of his coin to ensure it made it all the way from district five, and he wasn't about to lose it now. "But I suppose this is just a ploy of yours to keep from telling me what you're doing?"

It always paid to turn the tables on Ikkaku - his temper was volatile enough that he'd be distracted for a surety, and Yumichika often used such opportunities to drum up plausible explanations.

"Eh? What? _No_, stupid!" Ikkaku flared, sitting back in offended dignity. "What's to tell? I'm meditating, that's all. It helps me talk to him."

"Oh?" Yumichika stared at him, surprised. "You mean...your sword? He's talking to you?"

Ikkaku's cheeks bloomed with color. Crossing his arms over his wide chest and looking away from Yumichika, he confirmed, "_Yeah_. So?"

"So? So that's wonderful, Ikkaku," Yumichika said. "You should know better than to think I'm teasing you."

He settled on a lower crate and slid his shoe off, dislodging a stone that had come to rest inside. "Has he told you his name?"

"Er...no," Ikkaku said, relaxing again. "But he will soon, I can feel it."

"Ikkaku, if that sword has a soul, then perhaps it _is_ a Soul Cutter," Yumichika suggested, looking up at him there on the crates. "You can raise substantial spirit power...maybe you should see if you can get into the Academy?"

"Nah," Ikkaku said, angling his fierce grin out at the dying sun and the dirty streets. "That's not my style, Yumichika. Death Gods, they run around helping souls and protecting this world. Why would I want to protect this ugly place, eh? Why would I want to help anyone?"

"You helped me," Yumichika quietly reminded him, getting those lovely grey eyes to meet his for a long, heart-pounding moment. "Why did you?"

Thoughts moiled, he could practically _see_ them, every emotion and nuance reflected behind the flutter of Ikkaku's ridiculously enviable eyelashes. He could see his own reflection, serene yet tense, hiding far less than he'd hoped and giving away far more than he could afford.

Whatever Ikkaku saw in his expression made him hesitate before he settled on, "I felt like it, that's all."

"Liar," Yumichika whispered.

"Eh? _You called me a liar_?!" Ikkaku asked, outraged.

"Of course not!" Yumichika laughed, waving away his temper. "But, Ikkaku, tell me - how _do_ you speak to him? Do you just close your eyes and he comes?"

Ikkaku's expression turned cagey and ornery, a combination that Yumichika always disapproved of.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Why can't you just _tell_ me?" Yumichika asked, exasperated.

"Why do you want to _know_, I said!" Ikkaku shouted, and pointed at the sword that Yumichika never let out of his sight. "Is it talking to you, too?! _Heh_! What a bunch of lunatics we are, Yumichika, eh?! One of us a killer, one of us a woman, and both of us talking to swords! Ha!"

"Well," Yumichika softly said, brushing his hair back over his ear. "I wouldn't go so far as to call you a _woman_, Ikkaku, but you certainly have potential."

"_Damn it, Yumichika_!" Ikkaku roared, off of the crates in a flash, tearing after Yumichika, who'd wisely decided to run for it and couldn't help laughing as he did. "_When I catch you, brat, I'm going to _pound_ you_!"

"Tell me how you meditate, and I'll let you catch me!" Yumichika threw back, leaping gracefully over a man's prone body and barrelling through a group of people who were starting a riot.

"I don't need you to let me catch you!" Ikkaku yelled, gaining on him.

By the time they reached the rotten wall that theoretically separated the district from a river, both of them were out of breath and had forgotten what they were running for in the first place.

"Ah," Yumichika panted, smiling, staggering to a stop to lean against the wall. "See? Sometimes, even ugly things have their beauty."

Ikkaku flopped next to him, reaching over to lazily knuckle him in the side, more tickling than painful, his grey eyes flicking over the pretty picture that the setting sun was painting across the sluggish river.

"Beautiful or not, I don't care about that," Ikkaku said, catching his breath and straightening a little, nudging Yumichika with his shoulder in a good-natured attempt to knock him over. "You want to talk to her, Yumichika? Sit quietly and clear your mind, that's all."

"Ah? So _that's _why it's not hard for you to do. There's nothing going on in that head of yours, _idiot_," Yumichika teased, smirking when Ikkaku grinned. "And I'm _not_ a woman, so why would my sword be?"

"Well, someone mixed up with you, that's all," Ikkaku explained it, stacking his hands behind his head in a negligent pose, once more the king of his world. "There's some poor man roaming around out there in a body that should've been yours, wondering why the gods gave him tits."

He couldn't help laughing, it was so absurd, so crude, yet so utterly Ikkaku.

"Well, if it's half as beautiful as _my_ body, we must've heard of her by now," Yumichika told him, refusing to be offended. "Such legendary beauty simply can't go unremarked."

Ikkaku chuckled softly next to him, sighing a little as a breeze kicked up, cooling the stifling heat of the day.

"It is," he said.

"What?" Yumichika asked, looking out at the water, at the spirit blossoms riding the currents, at the veil of beauty the sun cast with its death.

"Beautiful," Ikkaku said, tipping his head so that those sly grey eyes passed over him. "It's beautiful, brat."

"It is," Yumichika agreed, somberly thinking, '_But only because it's dying_...'

"Hey, Yumichika," Ikkaku said, sensing the turn of his mood. "You have it too. I can feel it sometimes, when you get angry. You hide it, don't you?"

"I was born with it," Yumichika absently responded, feeling the spirit pressure within him. It wasn't something he'd ever been conscious of because it had always been there. The unfamiliar feel of Ikkaku's own spirit pressure had at first startled him - he hadn't considered that commoners might have such ability - but he'd grown used to it by now. His own spirit pressure wasn't something he ever bothered with. There was no use for it, no need for it, and so he unconsciously repressed it to keep it in the background. "It's nothing, just a pretty nothing, Ikkaku. Not even worth a _Kan_."

"Nah, not if it's yours, eh?" Ikkaku asked, throwing an arm over his shoulders as was his habit when he wasn't using his sword like a yoke. "If it's _yours_, Ayasegawa Yumichika, then I guess it's worth more like two million..."

He had to turn his head away to hide the shine of touched, surprised tears in his eyes, because Ikkaku wouldn't understand them.

"Here, come on, Yumichika," Ikkaku urged, moving forward towards the water and tugging the slim man along with him. "Sit down, I'll show you, yeah? I'll show you how to talk to that sword of yours - woman to woman."

"Idiot," Yumichika breathed, unable to keep from smiling. He slid down into a graceful, cross-legged pose next to Ikkaku and arranged his clothing around him. "Ew, it's dirty here..."

"Shut up, brat," Ikkaku ordered, looking oddly natural in his own seated posture. It suited him somehow, as much as his violent nature suited his perpetual look of irritated anger. "Now, take a deep breath, close your eyes, and clear your mind."

Yumichika did as he was bidden, curious despite himself.

"What if someone attacks us?" he asked, lost behind the darkness of his lids.

Ikkaku laughed a little, telling him, "I'll pound them, Yumichika. Don't worry about it, eh? Just concentrate."

He sighed, relaxed his posture, and tried to clear his mind.

Little by little, the soft gurgle of the river faded to the back of his mind and he found himself breathing in time with Ikkaku, slowly, deeply until everything became still and calm.

'_Ah, so _now_ you want to speak to me? Go away! The way you treat me, it just isn't beautiful...'_

'_Who are you_?' Yumichika asked, breathless as vines curled into being, as that lush, familiar garden bloomed into the darkness of his mind.

'_How dare you ask me that, as if you know me! Ha! What a brat, just like he says_...' that mocking, soft voice told him. He saw a beautiful flurry of peacock feathers fan before his eyes, shielding the speaker from him. '_All of these years, and you never once asked after me. Did anyone ask _me_ if I wanted to live like a vagabond? _No_. Did anyone ask _me_ if I minded staying in a whorehouse?_ No!_ Go away, beautiful boy, I'm in too ugly a mood to deal with you...'_

'_How can you be_?' Yumichika lightly asked. '_When that dying sun is so beautiful?'_

He - because for all the femininity of that voice, it _was_ male - seemed interested, the fan of feathers stirring just a little.

'_Oh? Is it? Death _can_ be beautiful,'_ it sighed. _'Even an ugly thing can have a beautiful death. Tell me, boy, why did you suddenly decide to seek me_?'

'_Ikkaku_,' he said, the one word explanation for why he did anything. '_If I can know you, you can make me stronger. If you can make me stronger, I can keep fighting him. And if I can keep him fighting long enough, he'll forget what he wants._'

Laughter, then, mocking and beautiful, floating from every direction as it breathed, '_His own beautiful ending_..._Ah, that brute, how insensitive he is, dragging you every which way without any care at all_...'

'_I go from my own choice_,' Yumichika told him, offended.

'_I meant your heart_,' it clarified, surrounding him with the scent of blooming flowers. '_Growing strong for the sake of love is a weakness, Yumichika. Because if there is one thing in life that will betray you, it is _love_. It is better to grow strong for the sake of power, darling boy - and then nothing can harm you._'

'_Then teach me_,' Yumichika asked. '_Help me learn._'

'_Ah, but how can I do that when you starve me, you cruel thing_...'

He opened his eyes, surprised to find that it was fully, deeply dark. The moon had risen high into the velveteen night, surrounded by sparkling stars.

"They're the same, you know," Ikkaku said, aware that Yumichika had opened his eyes. He was stretched out next to him, laying with his bald head in his stacked palms and his legs splayed wide, as relaxed as he was capable of becoming.

"What is?" Yumichika asked, still half in a world comprised of blooms and peacock feathers.

"The stars," Ikkaku answered. "They're the same in the World of the Living."

He shifted around, swallowing his distaste, too distracted by that mocking voice within him to feel self-conscious. Besides, a little dirt was insignificant in the face of time well spent with his loud, bald friend. He lay down, pillowing his head on Ikkaku's hard, ropy stomach, staring up at the same night sky. They lay there together for a long while, content with their shared, comfortable silence, each lost in their own restless thoughts.

"Did you talk to her?" Ikkaku finally asked, his deep voice pitched low.

"She's a he," Yumichika told him, smiling when Ikkaku chuckled. "And yes, I did. A little. I think...I think I need to stop repressing my spirit pressure. He said I was starving him."

"Ah, well, I guess they grow from it, I don't really know," Ikkaku said. "He's never said, and I've never tried to reign mine in. That's why I eat so much now."

"_Now_? You've always been a pig, Ikkaku, eating everything in sight," Yumichika said, lifting his hand to admire the sheen of his lovely nails in the moonlight.

"Keep talking, brat, and the next time I get hungry I'll just eat _you_!"

"Ah, but we both know how that would end," Yumichika laughed, dropping his hand. "Remember the last time you bit me? Goodness, what an ugly mess."

"Wrong kind of biting, Yumichika," Ikkaku said, laughter threading through his raspy voice. He gave Yumichika's long hair a playful tug, letting the coil of hair fall through his fingers like a fine, inky wave. "Come on. Let's go get some food before I decide to test it, eh? Damned brat Prince."

He ruffled Yumichika's hair and pushed him up as he sat, helping the slender young man gain his feet, laughing at him when Yumichika fussed with his clothes.

"We're leaving here tomorrow," Ikkaku informed him, brushing at his own clothing when he thought Yumichika wasn't looking. "Thought we'd try a little further."

'_Did anyone ask _me_ if I wanted to live like a vagabond?_'

"Ikkaku, are you getting tired of moving around all of the time?" Yumichika asked him.

"Nah," Ikkaku answered, shaking his head, leading the way. He never looked back, not once. Perhaps it was because he simply expected that Yumichika would follow him. But deep in his heart, in the place where he knew that he was only worth a single _Kan_, Yumichika knew the real reason why Ikkaku didn't look back.

It was because, despite everything, when it came down to it, he simply didn't care if Yumichika followed him or not.

And so Yumichika followed, because the last thing he could bear was the sight of Ikkaku so carelessly striding away.

* * *

The next time that Ikkaku got into a heated brawl, Yumichika decided to leave him to it and go meditate. Whether he was there or not wouldn't change the outcome, and he'd really rather not watch Ikkaku earn cuts and bruises he would doubtlessly later return with.

Yumichika returned to the market district and spent the very last of his coin to rent a room, thanking the proprietor despite the man's ugly glower and suspicious glares.

It was a poor room, as expected, with only a flea-infested rag of a bed rolled into one corner.

"Ah, well," Yumichika sighed, pushing the broken screen open to look out at the coarse weeds that constituted the garden. "It's better than being married off, isn't it?"

He settled on the floor, shedding his kimono down to the single underlayer in a vain attempt to combat the heat. The scroll case dropped heavily onto his thigh, the delicate, yellowing ivory catching the light to show its intricate carving in high relief. He rolled it in his hands, feeling his heart catch, wondering what on earth he would finally do when Ikkaku _did_ actually die.

'_Be happy for him_...'

He started softly, surprised, automatically stuffing the case into his sash for safekeeping. It took him a second to realize that it had come from inside of himself.

It took him less than a second to realize that it was true.

"Look who wants to talk, now," Yumichika whispered, pulling his sword free and laying it over his knees. The blade gleamed in the faint light, honed to an edge fine enough to slice a single hair lengthwise. "I suppose I'll listen, if you want to complain at me..."

He closed his eyes and was in the garden just as quickly, sitting among blooming flowers with vines coiling over his lap. Once Ikkaku had shown him the trick to meditating, he'd gotten quite proficient at it and, as time had passed, had found it easier and easier to reach the place inside of him where that mocking voice lived.

Brilliant feathers fanned before him almost coyly, yet now and then he could see a vividly violet eye peeking at him, as if the feathers were just as much a barrier from that side as from his.

"You heard me? Hmph, well, I suppose it was bound to happen, now that you're taking such an interest," he said, retreating again.

"How could I _not_ hear you when you speak into my head?" Yumichika asked, turning his nose up in distaste. "It isn't beautiful to surprise people, you know. And it doesn't concern you anyway!"

"Everything about you concerns me," he was told, and for once the mocking edge was gone. "If something happens to you, what do you think happens to me? I'm too beautiful to die so young! So it behooves me, you young, foolish boy, to make sure you aren't completely inept!"

Yumichika scowled, snapping, "These exchanges are becoming more and more pointless! Why would you speak to me if you didn't have something constructive to say?! I'm leaving!"

"You say you don't know me," that voice said, echoing around him. "You think I am someone so different from you, but you couldn't be more wrong, Yumichika..."

He heard a shrill cry, carrying but faint, as if coming from a great distance, and a thunder like thousands of wings beating hard.

"I speak to you because you need me, Ayasegawa Yumichika," it said. "Without me, you're still Ichigawa Kanesuke, a Prince without a purpose. If you want to make your heart a battleground for Madarame Ikkaku and that brutish spirit of his, then I suggest you call my name..."

"But I don't..." he trailed off, feeling his spirit pressure throw off its bindings and break them so that he couldn't fix them in place. It spread through him with the ferocity of a raging fire, lancing his perfect flesh with the thorns of understanding. "_Ruri'iro Kujaku_!"

"Ah, finally," the Azure Peacock sighed, folding the fan of his brilliant tail feathers, his large, intelligent violet eyes scrutinizing Yumichika's stunned face. His appearance wavered between that of a man in an elaborate, peacock-embroidered kimono, and the graceful creature he was named for. Strangely, it didn't seem odd to witness the ceaseless shifting. How could he see him clearly, after all, when they'd just met? "I've been wondering if you were as beautiful as me - I _assumed_, because I manifested with you, and I would _never_ choose someone less than perfect...Yet I see that I erred..."

Yumichika's awe faded to low-simmering outrage. Propping his sword-hand on his hip, he caustically said, "_Impossible_! _You_ can't be who I was talking to, because you're not _nearly_ as beautiful as I am! Ha! How disappointing! I come expecting a beautiful peacock and instead I get a strutting rooster!"

"_How dare you_!" Ruri'iro Kujaku gasped, and suddenly he was a man again, his long black hair swirling around his head, a multitude of peacock feathers fluttering within. With one kimono sleeve held up to cover the lower part of his face, he sprang at Yumichika with a sword identical to his own.

They clashed with the spark of steel on steel, testing one another, measuring the response.

"Hmph! You fight too much like that bald-headed brute!" Ruri'iro Kujaku declared, using the swirling sleeves of his long kimono to divert Yumichika's attention, all the while swinging that sword with deadly accuracy.

"That's a compliment, you flushing peacock," Yumichika informed him. "Ikkaku is perfectly beautiful when he fights!"

"You'd find him perfectly beautiful covered in mud and dressed in sackcloth," the Azure Peacock mocked him. "If there is one thing where you lack all rational strength of mind, Yumichika, it's in regards to _that_ man!"

"Why did you say that?" Yumichika asked, and Ruri'iro Kujaku knew what he spoke of, because for an instant those violet eyes met his and they were filled with bottomless despair.

"Because it's true," he said, swinging from the other hand, surprising Yumichika with the quick switch. "You think you love him, young and untried as you are. You profess that there is nothing you wouldn't do for him, yet you can't even begin to _fathom_ the pain you're inviting upon yourself. If you are willing to do such a thing, then you must accept the consequences."

Yumichika dealt him a blow that Ikkaku would have been proud of, and watched him drift backwards like a bit of dandelion fluff on a breeze.

"Yumichika," Ruri'iro Kujaku said, dropping his sleeve to reveal his solemn, undeniably beautiful face. "If you care so much for Ikkaku, then you have only one course to choose, and you cannot deviate from it without losing yourself entirely. Instead of seeking your own happiness, seek his. Instead of fulfilling your own dreams, fulfill his. _His_ wants, _his_ needs, _his _joys, _his_ sorrows - they must take the place of your own, because _that_ is what it means to love someone.

"And if death is what will ease him and give him rest, then when he dies, you must be happy for him."

Yumichika stood there in the fertile garden of his mind, speechless when confronted by the awful, ugly truth.

"Will you help me?" he finally managed, the words as painful as the realization. _Begging_ wasn't beautiful, but there had to be a first sacrifice, didn't there?

"If it is truly what you want, Yumichika, then I will help you," Ruri'iro Kujaku said, reverting to that flickering peacock shape, though the look of regret never changed. "I detest the idea of sullying our beauty with the ugliness of suffering, but you and I are one. I cannot negate your will, after all."

Yumichika dropped to his knees among vines and blooms, wishing that he could take all of the beauty of this garden into himself to end this terrible ache.

"What will you do?" Ruri'iro Kujaku asked.

In a soft, careless voice that would one day come to disguise his pain, Yumichika firmly told him, "_I will be happy for him_."

* * *

Ikkaku was there when Yumichika opened his eyes.

"Hey."

He was bloodied as a matter of course, drooping with exhaustion, that awful longing in him tamed for the moment, satiated and sleeping.

"You look terrible," Yumichika told him, gently sliding Ruri'iro Kujaku off of his lap and laying it softly on the pile of his kimono. "Do you need a surgeon?"

"Nah," Ikkaku said, yawning, rubbing absently at the blood that ran insistently into his eye. "Were you trying to lose me? If your spirit pressure hadn't been so high, I'm not sure I could've found you."

"Well, if I was trying to lose you, I didn't do a very good job," Yumichika wryly told him. "Let me find something to clean you up, Ikkaku. Blood and dirt all over your face, it just isn't beautiful."

"You don't have to," Ikkaku said, pausing him. "I was thinking, maybe I should go..."

Yumichika was certain that his heart stopped beating. He sat there in rigid, breathless shock, his violet eyes fixed on Ikkaku's lean face while his stomach fell through the floor.

"Excuse me?" It was all he could manage, and under the circumstances, that was pretty good.

"Go, _you_ know...go," Ikkaku said, looking away from him, his head tipped up at a proud, cocky angle, his lean body tense. "This is no kind of life for you, Yumichika. I drag you from place to place, make you patch me up after my fights, and what do you get, eh? What do you ever get?"

"I get precisely what I want, and that's none of your business," Yumichika scolded him, reaching out to force Ikkaku's head around, making those grey eyes meet his. "Ikkaku, I do as I please. You could leave, but it wouldn't do any good...You never look behind you anyway, idiot..."

Ikkaku grinned at him, crinkling his grey eyes in an expression that never failed to penetrate every defense Yumichika could have dreamed of having.

"I never look behind me, Yumichika, because I know you're always there," the man said. "Always right there, making sure no one surprises me."

He swallowed hard, his hand still resting on Ikkaku's face, not trembling by sheer force of will. He hadn't even _considered_ such a reason, not with that horrible doubt hanging over his head like a cloud.

"Stupid," he breathed, wiping away a smear of blood with his fingers to explain the lingering contact. "Of course that's why."

Inside of his heart, he heard the Azure Peacock's lonely cry, but all he could do was feel marvelously relieved. It wasn't lack of care that kept Ikkaku from looking back, but a trust honed in the fires of extreme youth and circumstances.

"And I'll always be right there, Ikkaku," Yumichika told him, holding his gaze. "So no more talk of lighting off without me, okay? After all, who would watch your back if I wasn't there, hm? After all of this time, you still want to break your promise! Ah, and you say _I'm_ dramatic!"

He shook his head in mock regret and cast around for anything to be used as bandaging.

Ikkaku caught him by the wrist, giving him a gentle tug to get his attention, his gaze so intense that Yumichika actually blushed beneath it.

"If you still want me to, Yumichika, then I will," he said, his low voice a raspy purr. "As long as you need me to, I will take care of you."

"Ikkaku," Yumichika softly said, turning his wrist in the man's hand to clasp Ikkaku's own with his fine fingers. "Let's both take care of _each other_..."

Ikkaku grinned, letting him go with a squeeze, and said with his usual careless ease, "Then it's a deal, brat Prince. Now, hold up your end and patch me up, eh?"

"Ugh," Yumichika sighed, shaking his head with a wry smile. "You're lucky I - "

_Love you so much..._

"Take such good care of you," he said instead, but Ikkaku's smile was all the payment his thundering heart ever needed.


	9. Chapter 9

Yumichika carefully stashed the handful of _Kan_ inside of his precious pouch next to the scroll casing and took a moment to trace the outlines of the contents with his sensitive fingers. That pouch was all that he had now, excepting the clothing on his body and the sword through his sash. Inside of it were the various little baubles that Ikkaku had brought him when they'd been children together at the House of Open Roses. Some of them he'd pawned to buy food for them both. Some of them had broken during particularly brutal fights. Some of them had simply fallen apart after so much time, but the few of them he had left, he treasured.

"Thank you," he graciously said, inclining his noble head to the woman who'd paid him. "I hope the gods bless your home."

"If they did, it'd be with a fire and kill us all," she sourly said, and closed the door in his face.

"Ah, there's no helping it, I suppose," Yumichika mused to himself, turning away from their poor dwelling, picking his way cautiously down the street. This deep in the districts, the roads were simply beaten dirt or, usually, swampy quagmires of mud. Yumichika wished for a pair of _geta_, but he wasn't sure even the high shoes would keep his beautiful feet clean in this mess - his _zori_ were hopelessly mutilated to the point that he sometimes considered going barefoot, like Ikkaku.

"You look happy," Ikkaku called, searching him with those dark grey eyes. It still took Yumichika by surprise to see the red marks winging from the corners of Ikkaku's eyes, marks that had mysteriously appeared overnight. Ikkaku had vanished like smoke one day, making Yumichika sleepless with worry, and when he'd shown up the next morning to triumphantly announce that he'd learned his sword's name, he'd been sporting those marks without even being aware of it.

Yumichika enviously thought that they were quite beautiful...

"I have enough to get us some food," Yumichika told him. "Her problem...was easily solved."

"Eh? What's this, now? Did you get into a fight?" Ikkaku asked, scowling.

Yumichika shook his head a little, fluttering the long strands of his hair. "No, he was a bully. He didn't want to fight someone so beautiful. I guess I should have sent _you_."

Ikkaku chuckled, amused, and pushed away from the wall where he'd been waiting. Yumichika fell into step slightly behind him, aware when a group of men fell in behind him.

"Ikkaku..."

"Yeah," the man roughly said. "Go wait ahead, Yumichika, eh? I'll be right there."

Yumichika stared steadily at the tight set of Ikkaku's corded shoulders and asked, "Do you want me to fight with you?"

"Nah, there's just three of them," Ikkaku said, and angled a grin back at him. "If there were ten, then maybe. _Maybe_."

Yumichika made a soft sound of acquiescence and drifted gracefully ahead, moving to lean against the wall of a house some distance away, closing his eyes as the sounds of their fight drifted back to him. Sometimes, it was exhausting just _hearing_ them.

Ikkaku came along a short while later, stomping past with the irritated scowl that spoke of an unsatisfying fight. He grew stronger and stronger, but his opponents couldn't match up - for the most part they were simple thugs, bullies, thieves, murders of opportunity who didn't even carry swords. The majority of Ikkaku's fights involved fists these days, and that only added to his frustration - the deeper into the districts they went, the more angry and violent Ikkaku became.

"I hate this place," Ikkaku said, balancing his sword over his shoulders, glaring at everything in sight. "Where are all the people who want to fight, eh?! _Doesn't anybody want to die_?!"

Yumichika followed him sedately, enfolding himself in calm, feeling Ruri'io Kujaku fluttering at the edges of his mind. It made him aware that he was sensing a vast spiritual pressure, greater even than Ikkaku's. He'd come into it so gradually that he hadn't realized it at first, like a faint noise that grows steadily louder. He was so distracted by it that it surprised him when Ikkaku suddenly tore off for parts unknown, shouting at the top of his formidable lungs.

"Ikkaku! Wait!" he called, chasing after him, skittering to a stop when he saw Ikkaku ahead, glaring down at a little girl playing in the alley. He paused, sensing that she, too, had a fairly impressive amount of spirit pressure, but Ikkaku was so intent on what he was doing that he wasn't taking it in.

Then another figure stood, revealing a man with a sword who would, unknown to Yumichika at the time, become a man nearly as important to him as Ikkaku was, because he would become so terribly important to _Ikkaku_.

A blast of pure power tore the man's covering apart, leaving a grinning madman glaring down at Ikkaku, a grinning madman of impressive height as well as impressive build. Yumichika had never seen anyone to rival Ikkaku, but whoever this man was, he'd been hardened by the same conditioning that had left Ikkaku a perfectly sculpted work of art.

'_How unfortunate_,' Yumichika thought, narrowing his eyes despite the inevitable wrinkles it produced in his attempts to get a better look. '_He certainly isn't handsome like Ikkaku...if there was ever a beast with a man's face, it is surely _this _man_.'

Even from such a distance the wide, sharp-toothed, white smile was unsettling enough that Yumichika was reluctant to get closer. He wondered how on earth that little girl could bear such a creature so near her, but apparently they were well acquainted.

"Be careful," he breathed, jostled by the crowd gathering to witness a battle. It worried him that this man had such concentrated, uncontrolled spirit pressure, but it worried him even more that the man carried a sword... "Ikkaku..."

"No helping out," Ikkaku reminded him, his grey eyes fixed on the massive man standing before him.

"I know," Yumichika softly said, resigning himself to watching.

"You're really strong, aren't you?" Ikkaku asked, grinning his fierce grin.

The man just stared at him with those unnerving eyes and said, "Yeah."

"Well, _so am I_!" Ikkaku howled, and rushed him.

It was nerve-wracking watching them fight, both of them determined to kill one another or die in the trying. Yumichika had never seen an opponent of Ikkaku's who could match his chaotic style of battle; not only match it, but do it one better.

"What on earth is he?" Yumichika softly asked himself, straining to follow the path of that ragged-edged sword. "I can barely see his attacks..."

"Kenny is having fun!"

Yumichika spared a glance to his side and saw the little pink-haired girl sitting on a pile of barrels next to him, swinging her small feet. She seemed to _enjoy_ the sight of blood splattering, the graceful ballet of death being played out before her.

"Too bad, though," she said, smiling at Yumichika. "It's almost over."

Yumichika looked back to see Ikkaku being pressed and pressed _hard_. He'd never seen the bald man have to struggle with an opponent before, to turn all of that savagery and anger towards simply staying alive.

But it ended with Ikkaku sprawled on his face, bleeding from several dozen places, thoroughly beaten in a way that made Yumichika's heart ache for him.

'_Be happy_,' he thought, willing himself to calm as the man stared down at Ikkaku. '_This is the moment, and you _will_ be happy for him_!'

"That was fun," that monstrous man said, looking down at Ikkaku from the bottoms of his eyes. "It's been awhile since I really let loose."

He turned away in the empty street, the little girl clinging to his back like a monkey.

"W..._wait_, damn it!" Ikkaku shouted, barely able to keep on all fours in his state.

"Eh? You still alive?"

"What the hell?!" Ikkaku yelled, his fingers digging into the dirt. "Why don't you finish me off?! _You won_!"

Yumichika caught his breath, certain that the man would do just that now that he was provoked. But, instead, he just waved a dismissive hand and told Ikkaku, "Forget that. I don't give a rat's ass about you now that you can't fight, and I'm not obligated to kill you, either."

"Don't screw with me," Ikkaku growled, trembling with barely repressed fury. "Are you mocking me?! _Kill me_!"

In an instant the man grabbed him by the collar of his bloody clothes and yanked him up on his knees.

'_This is it_,' Yumichika kept thinking, his heart in his throat. '_Be happy...be happy...be _happy!'

"If you like fighting, then quit bitching about not being killed!" the man said, shaking Ikkaku to make his point, the little girl an avid audience over his shoulder. "Don't accept defeat and beg for death like a coward! When you're dead, _then_ accept it! If you lose without dying, it means you were lucky. When that happens, focus on surviving."

"W...what the hell?" Ikkaku asked, dazed as the words penetrated that stubborn brain of his.

"Survive and kill the person who couldn't kill _you_," the man said, giving Ikkaku a logic that _could_ reach him. "It's not like I held back. The only reason you aren't dead is because you're lucky. Live. _Live_, and come try to kill me again."

He let go so suddenly that Ikkaku slumped to his knees, stunned.

"Wait! Please wait!" he called. "Your name! Please tell me your name!"

The man looked back, skewering Ikkaku with one terrible glare, and said, "Kenpachi. I'm the Kenpachi of Zaraki."

Ikkaku stared after him as he walked away, softly repeating, "Kenpachi of Zaraki..."

Yumichika approached quietly, surprised that Ikkaku wasn't even aware of him there.

"Ikkaku..."

"Wait!" Ikkaku yelled, trying to stand, determined to finish it.

"He's gone, come on," Yumichika said, crouching to get Ikkaku's arm over his shoulder.

"_No_!" Ikkaku howled, furious. "_Damn it, Yumichika! Let me _go!"

"You know better than to ask," Yumichika sharply told him. "Ikkaku! _Stop_ this! Let me get you patched up, and then I will help you find him. I promise, if you want to find him, I will help you. Haven't I always helped you?"

Ikkaku slumped in defeat, a frightening thing to behold. Yumichika couldn't bear to think that this fight may have crushed his spirit, because there was simply too much of it. The idea of Ikkaku walking around as if he _wasn't_ as big as life...Yumichika had promised the Azure Peacock that he would do what he had to do, that he would take Ikkaku's victories as his own and rage against his defeats.

So if Ikkaku wanted to find this man again and die at his hands, then Yumichika would find him no matter what.

"Come on," he softly said, managing to get Ikkaku on his feet, but just barely. He'd really never seen Ikkaku quite as seriously damaged as he was right now, and he worried that recovery would take far longer than Ikkaku was willing to give it.

He walked Ikkaku through the empty streets, searching for any sign of a surgeon or a healer. Most districts had them, it was just a matter of locating them.

They were situated at the gate back to the lower district, their nondescript house unlit and unwelcoming. Despite it, Yumichika braced Ikkaku against the wall and knocked, calling, "Please! We need help! Is there anyone here? My friend is seriously wounded!"

The door cracked open and a fierce brown eye searched his face.

"Who are you?"

"Ayasegawa Yumichika," he said, inclining his head a little in deference. "Please, my friend is terribly wounded. He was in a fight with Zaraki Kenpachi, do you know him?"

"He's an animal," the doctor spat. "And whoever fights him is a fool"

"_I'll _kill_ you_!" Ikkaku snarled, shoving Yumichika aside to wrench the door open. "Call _me_ a fool, will you? _Eh_?!"

Despite his lively comeback, the only thing Ikkaku did was topple forward and land on the rough floor in a pile of bloody clothes and slack limbs.

"Please excuse him," Yumichika softly said, smiling his sweetest smile. "He isn't used to being polite."

"Then he needs to go back to the barn he came from and eat out of the trough with the rest of the animals," the doctor spat, a withered and wizened old woman roughly half of Yumichika's petite size with a glare worthy of Ikkaku himself. "Well? _Pick him up_, boy!"

Yumichika couldn't decide if he was more stunned by her mannerisms or by her so quickly determining his gender, which people had trouble with to this day. He hastened to heft Ikkaku's limp body, made even heavier by the fact that all of that heavy muscle was absolutely lax.

"Bring him in here," the old woman said. "I can't have him in the doorway. A man bleeding to death on my doorstep is bad for business. _Lay him down_!"

Yumichika eased Ikkaku's body down onto a platform bed, his concern threatening to undo him at any moment. Ikkaku was utterly out, his grey eyes half-open but unseeing, his lips parted, his breathing shallow. It was terrifying to see Ikkaku so..._gone_.

"Move!" He was unceremoniously shoved out of the way. "If you want to be helpful, put that pot on to boil."

"You live here alone?"

"What's it look like?" she countered, glaring at him, her gnarled hands rapidly opening Ikkaku's bloody clothes to bare his pale skin.

Yumichika turned to stir up the small fire and settled the pot into place on the frame, saying, "Ah, well, I guess you _do_ live alone, though I can't imagine why, considering your charming personality..."

She laughed a cackling, raspy laugh but otherwise didn't acknowledge him.

Yumichika came to kneel next to Ikkaku's side, anxiously watching her examine him, relieved to the point of tears when she declared, "It's exhaustion more than anything. His life isn't in danger. Go get my water."

Yumichika dutifully did as bidden, helping her thread her needles and sterilize them, helping her turn Ikkaku's heavy body to reach the wounds on his back, which were glancing and shallow. He'd taken a number of deep, penetrating wounds to his chest, arms, and sides, but none of them had hit anything vital, or so she said.

Once she'd finished, she ordered, "Clean him up, dress his cuts, and turn that lamp out. If he starts feeling warm, come get me."

With that, she took herself off into a separate, darkened area and left Yumichika sitting there next to Ikkaku, surprised by her sudden exit.

"What an odd woman," he breathed, absently smoothing his hand over Ikkaku's clammy forehead. He looked down at the slack face of the man he loved and tenderly bent to press a soft kiss between his eyebrows, which for once weren't yanked together in a scowl. "Rest and feel better, Ikkaku. I'll find him for you, I promise."

"I'll find him myself, brat," Ikkaku rasped, coughing a little to clear his throat.

Yumichika sat up like he'd been scolded, gasping, "Ikkaku! You're awake!"

"Yeah. Where the hell am I?" the man asked, apparently not noticing the kiss or else not minding it. Who knew what Ikkaku could chalk such an action up to? Certainly not to what it truly was...

"A surgeon's. She's a strange, grumpy woman - you two should get along famously," Yumichika told him, turning away to wring out a cloth in order to compose himself.

"She had to strip me _naked_?" Ikkaku flared, aggravated to wake up utterly nude on top of an unfamiliar bed.

"Well, your clothes were ruined," Yumichika told him, turning back to hand him the cloth. "And you needed treating. Wash off, Ikkaku, and I'll dress the others."

"Stupid," Ikkaku breathed, though whether he meant Yumichika or the situation, Yumichika didn't know. At any rate, he dutifully wiped off the worst of the blood, grudgingly letting Yumichika gently get his back for him.

"You're going to be laid up here for some time," Yumichika told him, overriding his automatic protests with, "I don't care if she has to give you sleeping potions for the next two weeks, you're _going_ to _rest_, Ikkaku, _I mean it_!"

"Then he's that much further ahead of us! Damn it, Yumichika!" Ikkaku raged, wincing when Yumichika pulled a bandage just a little too tight in his aggravation.

"Shut up," he said, using Ikkaku's favorite phrase against him. "Ikkaku, _I_ will check around, okay? I'll get a lead on him, and when you're healed then we'll follow. Do you _truly_ want to face him again in such a condition?"

Ikkaku scowled, angry to be confronted with a logic that worked against him but certainly unable to argue against it. He subsided on the bed with a reluctant sigh, turning his head away when Yumichika pulled a light sheet up over him.

"Try to rest," he said, weary to the bone himself. He stifled a yawn and started to rise, pausing when Ikkaku caught his wrist.

"There's room here, Yumichika," he said, shifting over with a wince. "You may as well sleep next to me. I promise I won't bite."

He said it with a weary smile, and Yumichika returned it, moving gingerly to lay atop the sheet next to Ikkaku's warm, bandaged body. It felt strange to sleep at his side after so long, strange but _good_. Overcome by exhaustion, Yumichika slid safely into a deep, restoring sleep.

* * *

'_It's been years, decades, even_,' Yumichika thought, looking at the familiar gate before him. He couldn't remember just how many years had passed since the first time he'd stood before this gate, but it felt like a long, long time.

It had taken quite some time for Ikkaku to fully recover. The layup had put Ikkaku into an even worse temper than usual, and once they hit the trail that Yumichika had managed to track down, the Kenpachi of Zaraki was long gone but seemed to have moved steadily towards the center of Rukongai. Pure frustration had driven Ikkaku to larger and more dangerous brawls, and when he landed once more in a surgeon's house in district thirty, Yumichika had taken matters into his own dainty hands.

He knew that the Kenpachi of Zaraki loved fighting, and Yumichika was fairly certain that there was one place he might be able to find his trail. So after leaving with a threatening order to Ikkaku to mend or face the consequeces, he'd headed straight for the House of Open Roses.

He was just about to knock for entry when the gate opened suddenly for normal business hours and a familiar young man emerged.

"My, my, how you've grown, Katsuo," he softly said, looking fondly at the young man's unruly black hair and startled blue eyes. It was strange to see the echoes of the small face he'd known in the face of the man before him, but Katsuo had grown into a strong, fine-looking young man at last.

"Y..._Yumichika_?!"

He laughed softly when the youth embraced him hard enough to make his bones creak.

"Easy, Katsuo, I'm delicate, remember?" he teased, drawing back to grasp the man's face. "Here, let me see you."

"Where did you _go_? No one would tell me anything," Katsuo said, fairly wriggling with excitement. "Is Senior Ikkaku with you? What _happened_, Yumichika? Suddenly all of the guards left with Ikkaku and then they came back alone. Maiko was sick with worry!"

"Maiko? How is she?" Yumichika asked, dropping his hands.

"Come see her," Katsuo urged. "She works in the kitchens now that she's had children. I'm Head Attendant now, you know."

He puffed up like a peacock with pride and Yumichika presented polite awe at his accomplishments, smiling inside at how little he had truly changed, even if he was as tall as Ikkaku now.

"Is the Mistress still in charge?" Yumichika asked, following him through the familiar pathways to the back of the House where the kitchen was situated.

"Yeah, but she's training a successor," Katsuo said. "Rin bought out her contract not long after you left. No one knows what happened to her."

"I'm sure she's fine," Yumichika breathed, thinking it very likely that she was back in the Stealth Force with a fine promotion for her pains.

"Here we are! Hey, Maiko! Look who's come to see us!"

The young redheaded woman hadn't changed much at all. She was still slender and lovely, but there was more knowledge in her blue eyes, and the kind of steel that could only be tempered by time and experience.

"Yumichika?" she softly said, and flung her arms around him, laughing. "My goodness! _Look_ at you! You've gotten taller! And still so beautiful!"

"As are you," Yumichika told her, remembering his childish jealousy of this woman. He thought of how she'd wanted to marry Ikkaku and silently thanked the Gods that she hadn't managed to, because what kind of life would she have had, then? Then again, if Ikkaku had stayed here at the Open Rose, _his_ life might have been very, very different...or much shorter. "How are you, Maiko? It's so good to see you!"

"I'm fine! And I'm Yukimura Maiko now," she said with quiet pride.

"You mean some incredibly lucky man managed to talk you into marrying him?" Yumichika asked with a smile. "I hope he knows what he gained!"

"He does," she said, blushing. "He's a wonderful man! He's the head of the Mistress's security, now. He restructured everything and...and he doesn't allow the officers to participate in those fights anymore."

"Oh...oh, he doesn't," Yumichika said, faintly.

Maiko's red brows rose over her blue eyes. "You sound disappointed?"

"Ah, no! I'm sorry, Maiko, I couldn't be happier that people aren't forced into that barbaric entertainment," Yumichika hastened to say, moving to sit with her at the same rough, low table where he'd come his first day here. "It's just that I came here seeking someone, someone I'm _sure_ would have taken part in those fights."

"Well, they still _have_ them," Maiko said. "But it's voluntary for the men of the Open Rose. Who is he?"

"He's very, very tall and well built," Yumichika said, looking from Maiko's pretty face to Katsuo's own concerned one. "He has long black hair and a scar down his left eye, and a little girl with pink hair - "

"Rides on his back everywhere he goes," Katsuo said, nodding a little.

"_You've seen him_!" Yumichika said with relief. "Is he still in the area?"

"No, not anymore," Maiko said, paling at the mention of that man. "Zaraki Kenpachi, that's him, right? He slaughtered, what, Katsuo? Two dozen men, was it?"

Katsuo nodded, frowning. "Yes, roughly two dozen. They were probably the most brutal fights I've seen since Senior Ikkaku was there."

A shadow of pain flitted over Maiko's face at the mention of Ikkaku. To give her time to recover, Yumichika asked, "Do you know where he went, Katsuo?"

"Well, I'm not sure," the young man said, frowning as he tried to recall information. "But I _did_ hear that he went to the Thirteen Division Imperial Guards. The rumor was that he killed one of the Captains and took his place, but I can't say for certain that it's true."

Yumichika took a breath, settling back for a moment to process it. He couldn't carry an unfounded rumor to Ikkaku and run the risk of disappointing him. He'd have to find someone who knew for sure, however long it would take.

"So, that's why you came back?" Maiko asked, hurt.

"Oh, Maiko," Yumichika said, smiling a little at her. "We neither of us wanted to push our presence on this House, not after all of the problems we caused. I had hoped that you would understand, when Ikkaku sent back our House clothing."

"I assumed, but no, Yumichika, I can't say I understood," Maiko softly said, looking forlorn. "But I guess it couldn't have worked out any other way. It isn't like we could have shared him, after all. You never would've allowed it..."

Katsuo made a stifled sound of shock, but Maiko's firm look silenced him immediately.

"Maiko, if it helps, the only reason I'm with Ikkaku right now is because I follow him when he leaves," Yumichika told him, his pride taking a blow that his heart told him it required. "Truly, the only thing we could've shared was his temper."

She smiled a little at that, shaking her head to clear her emotions. "Ah, well, I've married a wonderful, strong, amazing man. I shouldn't have said anything, Yumichika. It was childish of me and I'm sorry. Still, for someone who lives life at the end of a rope, you look...you look wonderful."

Yumichika controlled the urge to preen, mostly because the rudeness of doing so wasn't beautiful. Instead, he softly returned the compliment, adding, "Maiko, tell me, are you happy here?"

"Yes," she said, and sounded so. "I am happy. My children are a constant joy, and once Ikkaku was gone, the Mistress...was tolerable."

He caught the exchange of glances and turned to Katsuo, lifting one eyebrow in silent inquiry.

"It...it sort of just took the wind out of her sails," Katsuo said, shifting with discomfort, a blush staining his fair cheeks. "I think she loved him, in her own way."

"Don't we all?" Maiko whispered, then stood, wiping her hands on her apron. "Yumichika, tell him that he's welcome here if he wants to stop by. We won't tell her he's here, we just...we'd love to see him again."

"I will, Maiko," Yumichika said, standing to bow to her, and elegant gesture of respect. "And thank you so much for seeing me. It was truly a pleasure. May the gods smile on your house."

"And on yours," she said, and dared to kiss his cheek before shooing him. "Go on, now. There's a man you need to chase, isn't there?"

"Kenpachi," Yumichika breathed.

Maiko's eyes sparkled with wry humor and she said with a smirk, "He wasn't the one I meant."

Yumichika bowed again, making a graceful exit with Katsuo at his side.

"You will come back, won't you, Yumichika?" the man asked, his face so earnest that Yumichika was moved to assure him that they would return someday. "Have you been in many fights? Have you had a lot of exciting adventures? Is Senior Ikkaku still as amazing as ever?"

"Oh, he's something else, alright," Yumichika breezily told him, brushing back a strand of hair.

"Yumichika!" Katsuo cried, stopping him before they reached the gate. "Can I come with you?"

"Ah, Katsuo," Yumichika sighed, roughing his cheeks. "No, you can't. It's no life for you, can you understand? You have a wonderful life here - you're Head Attendant, now! And someday, you may even run this House."

"I don't _care_!" Katsuo said, a shadow of the child he'd been peeking through in his mutinous expression. "I want to go with you! I want to have some excitement!"

"I'm sure you get all the excitement you can handle," Yumichika laughed, watching him blush. "Katsuo...Ikkaku and I, we're different, now. Until this issue with the Kenpachi is settled, being near either one of us just isn't safe. Besides, you're needed here."

It wasn't a response the man cared too much for, but it was one that mollified him slightly. He dragged Yumichika into another hug and said, "Go to the next district, only in the west. There's a place called the Crimson Nettle where the Death Gods stop on their rounds. If there's news anywhere, it's there."

"Thank you, Katsuo," Yumichika said, fondly squeezing his arm. "Take care of yourself, will you? And find yourself a wife before long! A fine man like you should have no trouble."

Katsuo's cheeks bloomed with bright pink color and he bowed deeply. "Have a safe journey, Yumichika! Remember us well!"

And with that, he straightened and ran for it, but not before Yumichika had seen the shine of tears in his blue eyes.

* * *

Yumichika had to force himself to rest on his way back; he was ready to burst with the information he'd managed to find. The story he'd heard at the Crimson Nettle was almost too fantastic to be true, but with two hundred witnesses on the ground for the fight, there was simply no mistaking it.

The Kenpachi of Zaraki was now a Captain in the Thirteen Division Imperial Guards.

Ikkaku was up when he got back, plowing through his breakfast with single-minded determination, not tasting a bite of it.

"Ikkaku," he softly said, coming in to sit in the chair across from his bedframe. He slid Ruri'iro Kujaku out of his sash and settled it next to him, keeping his fingertips on it. "It's been awhile. How are you feeling?"

"Ah, Yumichika," Ikkaku said, and nevermind that his mouth was full. He swallowed hard and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, and every gesture, every flick of his eyelids became new treasure to Yumichika. He had to hoard it now, after all. He could only assume that once Ikkaku knew, the man wouldn't rest until he'd gone to challenge the Kenpachi. "I'm okay, I guess. What'd you find out, eh?"

"I heard an interesting story," Yumichika said, smiling inwardly at Ikkaku's ferocious interest. "It would seem that he offered a one-on-one challenge to a Captain in the Thirteen Division Imperial Guards."

"Thirteen Protection Squads?" Ikkaku echoed, using the common version of their name.

"I was told that he defeated the previous Captain in an instant and stepped in as the new Captain," Yumichika said, as bewildered as Ikkaku by the man's actions. "Perhaps it was the best way for him to fight as much as he likes?"

"A Captain, though? Those guys, they're for protection," Ikkaku said, a slow smile spreading across his lips. "You're saying he's going to protect this shitty place? No way, that's not his style."

He got up, grabbing his sword from its place by his bed.

"Going to check it out?" Yumichika asked, reaching for Ruri'iro Kujaku and sliding him through his sash as he stood, telling himself over and over that he was doing the right thing. Ikkaku's wants were his wants; Ikkaku's regrets were his own...

"Hell yeah! He could be in Hell for all I care," Ikkaku said, wrenching his bandaging off to reveal the angry pink seams of new scars. "I'm going after him!"

Yumichika sedately fell into place just behind him as he headed for the door, murmuring with mingled resignation and affection, "I thought you would say that."


	10. Chapter 10

_**For those of you who don't like backstory, you may want to skip this one. I'm having fun drawing them closer to the inevitable and, as always, I write things the way I do because I like them that way, so feel free to pass on this one if you'd rather. - JG/Purefoysgirl**_

* * *

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Yumichika asked, probably for the thousandth time, judging by Ikkaku's thunderous scowl. They were standing in a haphazard group of people ranging from nobles like Yumichika to the most base of commoners from the furthest districts, all gathered together to answer the summons sent out by the Spiritual Arts Academy.

"Shut _up_, Yumichika, I said!" Ikkaku growled, scowling at the courtyard in general. "If this is the only way to get to him, then so be it! I said I'd follow him even to Hell, eh?! So, how bad can this be?"

They had tried unsuccessfully to reach the newly-titled Captain Zaraki, but the Court of Pure Souls had very strict laws regarding that kind of thing, and when faced by a process that threatened to be twenty years in the granting, Ikkaku had opted for a six-year route.

So here they were, part of a crowd of people who had - like them - passed the written test and were called to the second round of testing to become a Death God.

"We're lucky," Yumichika reminded him, keeping his tone light to counter Ikkaku's mood. "We arrived just before they started a new class. Imagine, if we'd been any later, we would've had to wait a year."

"Prospective students! Listen! Everyone, attention, please!" A bespectacled woman took her place on a small podium and called out to everyone expectantly, clapping her hands to get their attention. "If you would please direct your attention to the numbers you were given upon arrival?"

Yumichika didn't bother. He'd been given a five and Ikkaku had been given a one, and then after a series of quietly conducted bullying incidents, Ikkaku was now a five as well.

"Those numbers denote which examiner will be seeing you," she announced. "One through twenty-five is to the left, twenty-six through fifty is to the right. Please move out to your designated stations."

"This isn't what I thought it would be like," Ikkaku lowly said, glaring around at the diverse people around him. "I figured it'd be like _he_ did - you fight someone, and in you go."

"Well, now we know better," Yumichika breathed. They'd been informed of just that very thing upon their arrival - challenges were for Captain class and Seated Officers. "It still surprises me, Ikkaku. I had thought you'd want to challenge him. That would certainly allow you in."

"Nah, I don't want to fight him again, brat," Ikkaku said, shocking Yumichika into stunned silence. "I want to fight under his command. Actually, I want to _die_ under his command."

The small flare of hope that had bloomed in his heart died just as quickly as it had arrived. _This_ was something he should've seen coming a million miles away. Ikkaku had finally found someone capable of defeating him, of killing him - was it such a stretch of the imagination to think that Ikkaku's admiration would manifest this way?

They trickled in small groups of two through to a private interview area. Yumichika felt himself growing more curious and more apprehensive every step closer they got. He'd never been faced with such a process as the Prince Kanesuke, and he feared that one of these interviews was going to out him. He had no desire to be known as the disinherited, disowned, vagrant youngest son of a powerful noble family - the disgrace would be so ugly it would be too much to bear.

"What a stupid thing to have to do," Ikkaku complained, absently rubbing the back of his bald head, his features pulled tightly in a scowl that cleared an area of a couple feet around them. "Why can't we just get started, _eh_?!"

"You there, come with me," one of the runners said, gesturing at Ikkaku.

"Good luck, brat," Ikkaku wished him, and sauntered off with a grin, never looking back.

"You, too," Yumichika murmured, but Ikkaku didn't need his luck and he never had. Ikkaku made his own good fortune, and damn the consequences.

"Come with me, please."

Yumichika gracefully followed the young Death God to a small, impersonal, brightly lit room where a youngish woman awaited him. She was seated and showed no inclination to rise at his arrival, prompting Yumichika to bow deeply, giving her the respect her action indicated she should receive.

"Ayasegawa Yumichika," she said, taking a look at his file, which the young attendant handed her before hastily exiting. "I am Doctor Hirano Yori, an instructor here at the Spiritual Arts Academy. I'm going to conduct some tests on you. I am assuming, since you're here, that you've experienced the hunger and exhaustion typically associated with spirit pressure?"

"Yes, Doctor," Yumichika agreed, silently amused. But then, this _would_ all be necessary to someone who'd been born without the benefit of a noble upbringing.

"What I am going to do is test your spirit pressure for purity, density, and potential," she said, and held out her hands, indicating with a nod that he should sit and offer his own. "This is how we discern who has abilities to develop and where they should be placed."

Yumichika placed his hands in hers, starting a little when he felt the pins-and-needles sensation of her spirit pressure seeking his.

Her eyes closed slightly behind her glasses as she concentrated. After what felt like an eternity, she said with some degree of reservation, "It would appear that you have taken matters into your own hands, Ayasegawa; I see that you've managed to awaken your Soul Cutter already. Hand me your sword."

He hesitated long enough that she gave him a level, disapproving stare. Reluctantly, he slid the sword free of his sash and laid it across her waiting palms.

She held it, silent for another long moment, and then sighed a little. "There's no helping it; it's embedded in this sword. We prefer our students to begin with swords we provide - it makes it easier to train the Soul Cutter and shape the tone of interactions for further instruction. There's a chance we could dislodge it and rehome it, but the risks outweigh the benefits."

"I beg your pardon," Yumichika said, taking Ruri'iro Kujaku away from her and settling him back where he belonged. "But you speak as if this is a problem. Why?"

"Soul Cutters housed in regular swords tend to be more unruly and unresponsive," Doctor Yori told him, her tone crisp and professional, but still disapproving. "In the end, all you've done is make it more difficult for yourself and the spirit." She scribbled something on his file, absently telling him, "I'll have it noted that you're to keep your sword with you. I'm sure you won't be the only one."

"I'm positive I won't be," Yumichika said, wondering how Ikkaku was doing.

"As for your spirit pressure, it's quite solid and high," she went on, continuing to note her findings. "You have vast potential for Kido; I'm recommending that you be further tested for proficiency, but as it stands, I'm recommending you be put into the advanced class."

Yumichika didn't have a chance to respond because the young attendant returned and said with an edge of bewildered worry, "Doctor, they're asking for you over here. Ami can't figure out what she's finding..."

"Excuse me," she said to him, standing and hurrying away.

Yumichika knew that eavesdropping wasn't pretty, but he was also sure that this had to do with Ikkaku somehow, so he strained his beautiful ears to hear anything that might transpire. Sure enough, there was the faint sound of Ikkaku's raspy voice raised in mingled outrage and anger, which meant he was just fine, and the lower chorus of other people speaking to him.

After a moment, the Doctor returned, straightening her skewed glasses, a coil of hair falling from her severe bun.

"Goodness, what spirit," she said, sounding fairly shocked."Ayasegawa, you've traveled with Madarame, is that correct?"

"Yes," he said, trying to suppress a smile. If they thought _he_ had surprised them, he was sure that Ikkaku had blown all of their expectations to shreds. "Why? Is something the matter?"

"No, nothing," she hastened to say, sitting again and absently smoothing her bun. "I would like to confirm that the two of you have been practicing Sword Meditation."

"Yes, I suppose," Yumichika said, shrugging slightly. "What of it?"

"Who taught you?"

"No one, Ikkaku always practiced it," Yumichika said, feeling strangely uncomfortable. "If you have questions, you should direct them at him."

"He has answered all of our questions, and with some measure of passion," the Doctor said, no doubt having experienced Ikkaku at full volume. "I am asking you to confirm it. It seems odd that both of you have very old, very valuable swords already with spirits within them - this is unusual enough to pique our interest."

"It is unusual," Yumichika agreed, but offered no more. "Are we done, here?"

"_Here_," she confirmed, her smile a little softer than it had been. "But I doubt we're done. I believe the pair of you will prove to be quite the curiosity. Here, carry this with you at all times."

She scribbled something and handed it to him folded, and he was too proud to unfold it and read it in front of her.

"That's a dispensation to carry your sword," she said. "Please..."

Yumichika reluctantly handed over his sword again, watching with avid curiosity as she chanted a short Kido over it. A flare of yellow light wrapped itself around the guard and sheath, locking the weapon within.

"This binding will be broken by your instructors when swordplay is discussed," the Doctor told him, handing it back. "This way, you can carry it with you at all times. It can be uncomfortable for early awakeners to be separated from their swords."

Yumichika recalled how Ikkaku had always had his own sword close. He'd assumed it was because Ikkaku loved fighting, but now he wondered if it had just been anxiety.

"Thank you," he said, glad that this place was considerate of such things. "Ikkaku...will he be put in the advanced class as well?"

She laughed, and it seemed to surprise her that she had, but once it was out there was no taking it back. With a wry smile, she said, "I think you already know the answer to that, but yes. Yes, he will be in the advanced class. That's one dangerous man you're attached to, Ayasegawa Yumichika, and all the more dangerous for not having instruction. This Academy could use more like both of you, and you both will certainly benefit from attending. Now, out you go, and head to the left. Your friend should be done by now, whether they want him to be or not."

Yumichika rose and bowed again, then left with his permission paper tucked securely inside of his clothing with his treasures and scroll casing.

Ikkaku was waiting at the end of the hall, scowling a little, tapping his sword restlessly against his shoulder. "Eh? Yumichika? They ask you a lot of stupid questions, too?"

"Some," he admitted, knowing his smooth calm had a soothing effect on Ikkaku's prickly temper. Sure enough, when he got closer he saw the tension ease out of Ikkaku's broad shoulders. "I heard you shouting."

"Yeah. They wanted to bind him up," Ikkaku said, referring to his sword as he always did. "They were mad that I knew his name. _Heh_! How stupid! After all of this time, how could I _not_ know his name, eh?!"

"I suppose people like us come here far earlier, in most cases," Yumichika said, falling into step beside him as they moved towards another line. "She said we were unusual."

"Yeah, well, what does she know?" Ikkaku muttered, tipping his head just a tad higher to bolster his offended pride. "She wanted to see Hozukimaru! _Heh_! As if I would allow _that_!"

"What? How could she?" Yumichika asked, startled. Did she really think Ikkaku was that advanced? Yumichika's elder brothers in the Stealth Force could manifest their Soul Cutters, but only with preparation, concentration, and a set of circumstances that did _not_ include nosy little brothers. "Ikkaku! Did she say your spirit pressure was that vast?"

"I guess, I dunno," Ikkaku said, shrugging. "I wasn't really paying attention. Her hands were cold and I told her so."

"Ugh, you idiot," Yumichika sighed, laughing fondly. "Ikkaku, sometimes you surprise even me!"

"Yeah?" Ikkaku asked, surprised himself. He grinned, then, his good humor restored, and strode towards the line like the King of his world, albeit a bald and barefoot one.

The line took them to a barbers, where all of the other lines were converging on rows of stations set up to accommodate all of the new recruits.

"You in the advanced class, Yumichika?" Ikkaku asked, glancing down at him.

"Yes," he said, watching in dismay as people left the chairs, in some cases as bald as Ikkaku. "I was told we would be placed together."

"Good," Ikkaku shortly said. "I'd hate to have to hurt someone so soon."

"You, there, go on out to the left," one of the attendants called, signaling Ikkaku. "You're good already, head left and wait to be put into barracks."

"Eh, well," Ikkaku said, turning those beautiful grey eyes on Yumichika. "You okay here?"

"Yes, of course," Yumichika said, still nervously watching those people cut hair like they might cut grass. "What's the worse that could happen?"

"Hm. I'll be out there, then," Ikkaku said, unhappy to be leaving him. But this place would require adapting their habits and they both knew it. "Hurry up. I don't want you winding up in a separate barracks."

"I'll find you," Yumichika promised, and watched him stride off. It was strange how vulnerable he felt without Ikkaku at his side. When Ikkaku was with him, he felt strong and complete, every inch the Prince he knew he was...Yet without Ikkaku, he felt small and inept, much as he'd been as a boy in his father's House. Without Ikkaku, he was simply Kanesuke, a worthless boy sold for a single _Kan_...

"This way. This way, please!"

He ignored the jostling of people around him, doing his best not to let them touch him. They were dirty and not beautiful, and he didn't want that rubbing off on him.

"Ah! Such beautiful hair!" A young woman gestured at him, urging him over. She was lively and pretty, and seemed capable enough. "Oh, what a shame to have to cut it! I _am_ sorry, but it can't be long until you're in the Guards or otherwise placed. Recruits have to keep it short."

"How short?" Yumichika asked, swallowing hard as he sat in the chair.

She quickly and deftly plucked the feathers out of his hair and handed them to him, her keen brown eyes assessing the different lengths of his hair. His bangs had grown longer - of course, he wouldn't have had them at _all_ if Ikkaku hadn't gotten tired of not seeing his face when they spoke. The impulsive young man had promptly taken hold of the front of Yumichika's hair and sliced it neatly off. After a week of silent treatment, Yumichika had finally relented and had it trimmed neatly to correct the mess he'd made.

"They want it above the shoulder," she said. "I can angle it, to match the sides."

"It's fine," Yumichika said. "Cut it straight around."

She inspected the strands even with his jaw and cupped her hands around it, turning him towards a small mirror. "That? That okay?"

"It's fine," he said again, though it didn't _feel_ fine. He'd never had his hair short in his life, and here he was about to cut it just below his ears. "Just hurry and do it."

She quickly brushed it out, messing with the back for a long, curious moment accompanied by the snip of scissors.

"Here," she said, handing him four small braids tied off top and bottom, luxurious mementoes of his beautiful hair. "It really is a shame. I hope you do well, mister - hair like yours _should_ be long."

"Thank you," he whispered, and closed his eyes as she began to cut in earnest. After a long time filled with the pounding of his heart, she said, "Okay, all done. Good luck, mister!"

He opened his eyes, shocked and dismayed by the sheer _shortness_ of it. But nothing could make him less beautiful, he knew. He would grow accustomed to it and _make_ it beautiful, or die in the trying.

"Thank you," he said, sliding out of the chair, tucking those four braids away and quickly leaving the remains of his nobility behind him on the floor where it mingled with common hair and lice alike.

"We're going to start assigning barracks!" The announcement came echoing over the large courtyard where everyone was gathering. "Everyone, please listen! We're going to file you towards your new barracks, please don't forget where you belong!"

"Oh, no," Yumichika breathed, casting around for Ikkaku. It should have been easy, considering he was so tall and so bald, but there was a multitude of people milling around and some of them were even taller than Ikkaku. "Where've you gone, you idiot?!"

Heart hammering, he started plunging through the crowd, searching for the flare of Ikkaku's spirit pressure. He knew it as well as his own by now, but there was too much interference from other people and he wasn't adept at focusing on it. He'd never had to actively search for Ikkaku via spirit pressure before, because they'd never been around others with so much of their own before.

"Ikkaku!" he called, abandoning his pride in the face of being separated from his friend. "_Ikkaku_?"

All around him were strangers with impassive eyes and unfamiliar faces. Yumichika threaded through them with growing anxiety, hoping that Ikkaku hadn't already been assigned a barracks without him.

"_Get out of my way, I said_!"

The raspy howl was followed by a flare of Ikkaku's spirit pressure, so forceful that it actually made those around him step back a few feet, clearing an opening that Yumichika headed towards. He smiled with pleased, relieved vanity when Ikkaku started hollering, "Yumichika! _Yumichika_! Where are you, eh?! _Come here_, I said!"

"I'm here," he lightly said, affecting carelessness. He drifted to a stop next to Ikkaku as if he hadn't just been terrified of never finding him.

Ikkaku paused in the process of starting another round of shouting and closed his mouth, an expression of bewildered surprise on his lean, lovely face. "Oh. What happened to your hair?"

"I cut it," he said, sliding one hand beneath the shortened length and sliding it free so that the strands spilled over his hand. "Regulation forbids hair past the shoulders, apparently."

"Hm." Ikkaku appraised him with frank disapproval, unhappy with what had transpired in his absence.

"What?"

"Did you _want_ to cut it?" he asked, one hand on his hip, his shoulders thrown back with that unconquerable pride.

"It's fine, Ikkaku," Yumichika assured him. "There's no reason to go smashing skulls. Have they started?"

"Yeah," Ikkaku said, letting the issue drop for now. "I didn't think I'd find you before we got sent in."

It warmed him. No, honestly, it _thrilled_ him that Ikkaku was worried they wouldn't be placed together in the barracks. Of course, it always thrilled him when Ikkaku accidentally showed that Yumichika was just as important to him as he was to Yumichika.

"Ikkaku, you make yourself very hard to miss," he teased. "Shouting like a drunk in the middle of this crowd! Ah, it isn't beautiful!"

"Yeah? Well it worked, didn't it, brat?" Ikkaku asked, thumping him one on the shoulder. "Come on."

They were placed together in the Dragon Cloud barracks that framed the western side of the Academy, and when it came down to breaking up people into dorm rooms, Ikkaku deftly managed to shift them backwards to avoid the split by headcount.

It was a pleasant, if sterile place, and far cleaner than any they'd seen since leaving the inn the day after Ikkaku had purchased him. The beds were unfamiliar to Yumichika, who was told they were fashioned after beds in the World of the Living. He wasn't too sure about the strange, metal frame, but the mattress was quite soft and lovely.

"What do you think?" he asked Ikkaku, watching the man from his perch on his bed.

Ikkaku shoved the whole of his bundled uniforms into their shared, open closet and plopped down on his own bed, his eyes widening when he bounced slightly.

"I think we're that much closer," he answered, turning to lie down, his hands stacked beneath his bald head.

Yumichika wordlessly stood and sorted his uniforms onto hangers, then moved on to Ikkaku's.

"Keep your stuff on you," Ikkaku reminded him. _Trust_ wasn't something either one of them felt outside each other.

"Of course," Yumichika said, drawing out the four braids and sighing over the sight of his gleaming, beautiful black hair. Even cut away from him, it shimmered with a glow that couldn't be extinguished. Truly, it should be a crime to make someone like him cut his hair...

"What's that?" Ikkaku asked, his sharp grey eyes landing on the braids. He sat up and plucked one from Yumichika, turning it in his fine fingers. "You kept this? Eh?"

"I kept it for you," Yumichika told him, because it pleased him to think that Ikkaku might have something of his, something so precious.

"_Eh_?!" Ikkaku asked, bewildered. "Why would you? What am I going to do with this?"

Yumichika took it from him and reached between the layers of his clothing, averting his face so that Ikkaku wouldn't see how he blushed just at the warmth of his body. He tied the braid into Ikkaku's _juban_ and said, "There. Carry it next to you. Surely something so beautiful can only bring you more luck?"

Ikkaku's bewilderment didn't fade, but he hadn't pulled away from Yumichika's hands, either. He had no reason to mistrust Yumichika, no reason to keep him out or away. If Yumichika felt he needed to reach into his clothes, then he had a reason for it, and it didn't bother Ikkaku that he didn't _know_ the reason for it.

"For luck," Yumichika said, reluctant to pull away, but really what else could he do? Already other eyes were on them, watching their interactions with curiosity. Yumichika hastily kept his hands to himself and turned away, biting his thumbnail in a gesture that Ikkaku usually scolded him for.

"Yeah," Ikkaku said, reaching down to pat the braid through the layers of his clothing. "Okay. I'll keep it, Yumichika, if it's important to you."

"It is," Yumichika confirmed, wishing he could just blurt it out and tell Ikkaku how he felt. He dreamed about it sometimes, just saying it. Sometimes he dreamed that Ikkaku was glad, and decided to abandon his suicidal tendencies to live together with Yumichika in bliss. Sometimes he dreamed that Ikkaku simply accepted it, but never acted on it.

But usually he dreamed that Ikkaku hated him for it, and drove him away, and _that_ was why he could never, never tell him...

"Hm, at least the women here are pretty," Ikkaku noted, recalling some of the faces he'd seen in the courtyard. "Well, most of them. Not that it matters, eh? Everyone is the same in the dark."

"Ikkaku," Yumichika breathed, turning his head away, stung anew. Ikkaku had a voracious appetite for the fairer sex, mostly because he never knew when it would be his last time. Ikkaku's single minded pursuit of death made him live every day like it was his last - he overindulged in those things that brought him pleasure, making up for time he knew he'd lose eventually. "Don't say such things, it isn't beautiful."

"I'd always thought you'd come around one day, Yumichika," Ikkaku told him, turning those curious grey eyes on him.

"_Please_," Yumichika said, affecting a careless smile. "How could I ever do such things with anyone who _isn't_ as beautiful as _I_ am? I could never do anything so ugly as _that_."

Ikkaku laughed, a raspy and deep laugh that meant he was genuinely amused. "You're such a strange person sometimes, Yumichika, eh?"

"And you're such a vulgar one, Ikkaku," Yumichika told him, turning his nose up. "I have no desire to discuss your conquests. If you wish to brag about your prowess, you now have a wider audience. For me, I'll pass."

"Because it isn't beautiful to brag?" Ikkaku inquired, making Yumichika's brows lift in surprise as he referenced what the slender young man had said during their fight. "What? You think I can't remember anything?! _Eh_?!"

"Oh, some things," Yumichika admitted, smiling at him in a way that seemed to confuse Ikkaku, because he frowned softly, thoughts moiling in his lovely eyes. "But only when it suits you to do so, idiot."

"Brat," Ikkaku said, rallying. "Come on, let's go get cleaned up. They said we could do as we pleased tonight, and I'm getting hungry."

"Of course you are, you pig," Yumichika said, and laughed in pleasure as Ikkaku lunged across the small space to give him a fond roughing.

* * *

Adjusting to life in the Spiritual Arts Academy took some time, though both of them were resilient and adaptive from force of habit. Still, the better part of their fellow recruits were of petty nobility, most of them so far below Yumichika's stature that he'd barely even heard of them. They thought quite well of themselves, of course, and quite little of people who came from more humble beginnings. Yumichika even _recognized_ some of his fellow classmates as well as some of the instructors from his time at the Open Rose, and he desperately hoped they didn't remember _him_.

Ikkaku, of course, carved his own place among them. His skill in sword play quickly earned him the respect that his lack of birth denied him, and his good-natured roughness made him the first choice of anyone looking to enjoy themselves. In spite of their intensive training in the arts of the military, Ikkaku managed to cut a swathe through the vain, easily scandalized young ladies of their group, and not _all_ of them accepted the unspoken law of Madarame Ikkaku - _not for keeps_.

As for Yumichika, he found himself in a class that Ikkaku _wasn't_ in, Advanced Kido.

Kido felt as natural to him as breathing, and came with an ease that quickly made him the favorite of his instructor. It was Ikkaku himself, however, who kept Yumichika from attempting to excel in it. According to the rowdy, loud warrior, _magic_ was cheating and a man should fight with the strength of his body. His contempt for Kido quieted a rather abashed Yumichika, who'd sought him out to share his own improvements and wound up having to hide them instead.

His preoccupation made him careless, as did the addition of yet _another_ thing to keep out of Ikkaku's three-second attention span. Yumichika didn't realize how careless, however, until he heard one of his classmates calling for him and turned to find her running towards him with nothing other than his scroll case in her delicate little hand.

"Ayasegawa! You're Ayasegawa, aren't you? Ikkaku's...friend?"

The hesitation answered his panicked question in a heartbeat.

She'd read it. She'd opened the case and read the contents, probably in an innocent attempt to find out who it belonged to.

Her eyes couldn't _quite_ meet his, but she held out the scroll case to him, waiting for him to take it.

"How did you know it was mine?" he softly asked, forcing her to stand there and hold it.

"I...I just peeked, that's all," she said, a blush staining her cheeks. "I peeked and saw the name. You _are_ Ayasegawa, aren't you?"

"I am," he said, plucking it from her. "It must've slipped loose. Thank you for returning it to me; it's incredibly valuable."

"I imagine _so_!" she pertly said, and blushed again at her own audacity. "E..._excuse me_! I - "

"The contents of this scroll are private," Yumichika frostily informed her, glaring at her from the bottoms of his violet eyes, relieved when she seemed to shrink a little. Perhaps Ikkaku was onto something with such tactics after all... "I would greatly appreciate you keeping the information to yourself. You know how temperamental Ikkaku is..."

She nodded shortly, sketched a hasty bow, and took off before things grew worse. It was poor payment for her returning something so precious, but he couldn't even imagine how such a thing would be perceived by those around him.

One good thing about refusing to mingle with anyone other than Ikkaku was the fact that he was spared knowledge of most of the gossip, even when it directly concerned him, and since he walked around like everyone else was invisible, he didn't see their speculative glances or hastily stopped conversations.

And he certainly didn't realize that very few of his secrets were truly safe anymore...

* * *

Yumichika saw a small group of petty nobles clustered together, their faces clouded with consternation and frustration. He knew a few of them, and one of them was Sachiko, the girl whom Ikkaku had somehow managed to seduce - or vice versa, according to Ikkaku.

Curious, he idled to watch what they were doing and saw that she was attempting to practice a particularly difficult Kido, though why on earth she would eluded him. Not only was the spell far beyond her level, but it was also one that no instructor would condone her using in a training situation.

"I just can't understand what I'm doing wrong!" she wailed, snatching a parchment closer to scan the writing, muttering the words to herself. Yumichika distinctly heard her made a mistake in her reading, probably due to a sloppy brushstroke on the paper she was reading.

"Excuse me," he said, getting their attention, a little put off by the looks they turned on him. What started out warm turned cold with distaste, and it somehow spread to the others around them. Mystified by their sudden change in reception, Yumichika said, "There's an error in the incantation. I can correct it for you, if you'd like."

"No, thank you," Sachiko said, her tone frosty. Like most of the women in Ikkaku's life who aimed to have more of him than he was willing to part with, she'd taken an instant dislike of Yumichika. Never doubt a woman's intuition, he'd learned - however he might hide his feelings from Ikkaku and even from himself, a woman knew a rival when she saw one. "My father would die of shame if he knew I was taking assistance from a whore."

Yumichika drew up sharply, shocked but able to cover it thanks to years of watching Ikkaku flirt with death. So. Someone _had_ recognized him. Someone _had_ spread the word.

He looked around at a crowd of staring faces, all of their eyes on him, and not in any good way.

"How unfortunate," he breathed, offering her his most careless smile despite how sick he felt inside. "But I would be careful flinging names around if I were you. Whores get paid for their services; if Ikkaku gave you nothing, then that simply makes you a - "

"_I don't have to listen to this_!" she shrieked, color flaming in her cheeks as part of the gazes shifted to her, instead. "I don't know what they were thinking, taking people from the Open Rose!"

"They were thinking that we know how to negotiate, my dear," Yumichika said, and turned away with a breezy wave, adding, "Unlike people who give things away for free."

He could hear them murmuring behind him as he left, could feel their hostile eyes on the rigid length of his back, but he kept his composure as he left, unwilling to let any of them see how deeply it affected him.

"Hey, Yumichika. You okay? What a funny look! You _okay_, I said! _Wait_!"

Yumichika was forcefully caught by his arm and yanked around to find Ikkaku staring down at him. The expression of aggravated anger on the man's face quickly dropped to concerned dismay when he saw that Yumichika was on the trembling edge of tears.

"Er...what is it?" Rallying, he bristled and demanded, "You need me to hit someone for you? _Eh_?!"

"No! No," Yumichika said, swiping at his face, trying to get his mingled fury and hurt under control. "It's just ignorance; stupid and ugly ignorance."

"Come here," Ikkaku said, and hauled him away from the curious gazes of other students into the relative privacy of a nearby grove. "Now, what's this? Why are you upset?"

Yumichika took a deep breath, but every time he thought of what she said, he felt like crying all over again - not for himself, but for all of those who worked at the Open Rose.

"Yumichika, I mean it," Ikkaku said, all seriousness. "If you need me to take care of something for you, I will."

"No, I don't," Yumichika said, getting himself under control. "I offered to help Sachiko and she called me a whore."

Ikkaku stared down at him, perplexed. "Eh? Why would she call you that?"

"Remember how I told you I recalled some of the instructors from the Open Rose?" Yumichika reminded. "I can only assume someone recognized _me_. She said her father would die of shame if he knew she'd accepted help from a _whore_."

"_Heh_! What does she know anyway," Ikkaku said, shaking Yumichika softly by the shoulders. "She's just a spoiled bitch."

"I know, but it _bothers_ me!" Yumichika whispered, frustrated. "I didn't even do service there, Ikkaku, and look how they treat me! I can't bear even thinking of someone like Maiko or Katsuo coming to this place after what they've endured and being treated so badly! Any one of the _whores_ at the Open Rose has more claim to pride and more decency than any one of these awful creatures!"

Ikkaku's eyes widened at his vehemence, even moreso when Yumichika's tears spilled over. The slender young man was trembling from head to toe, his hands clenched into tight fists and his lips pressed into a thin, grim line.

"They don't know what it's like, living hand to mouth!" Yumichika raged, incensed to think that the people he'd known and loved, the people who had been his family when he'd had none, could be judged so harshly and so unfairly. "How _dare_ they! What do those spoiled noble brats know about being so hungry you're willing to sleep with a stranger just to keep from _starving_?!"

"Yumichika," Ikkaku softly said, giving him another soft shake and carefully wiping at his jaw where the tears were collecting. "Look at you, crying for them when you won't even cry for yourself, eh? What would you do with yourself if you didn't have anyone to be strong for?"

Yumichika shook his head a little, feeling a blush warm his cheeks when Ikkaku cupped his face and gently wiped his tears with both calloused, strong thumbs.

"You have pride enough for the whole of the Open Rose, Yumichika," Ikkaku softly teased, grinning his sharp white grin whenever the smaller man opened his eyes. "You show these stupid, spoiled kids how much better than them a supposed whore really is, eh?"

Yumichika swallowed hard, his tears competing with the rising gallop of his heart.

"Brat Prince," Ikkaku called him, and tucked Yumichika against his hard chest with the absent grace of long familiarity. "Get it all out of your system now, and don't let any of them see if they bother you. And if they _do_ bother you, Yumichika, you come get _me_. Come get _me_, I said, and I'll take care of it."

Yumichika's wide eyes gradually closed and he slumped against the strong, capable chest that had weathered more than a few of his tears over the years. He pressed his balled fists into Ikkaku's lean sides and bit his lip, willing the tears to subside. The familiar scent of Ikkaku's warm skin calmed him more than any words of solace, as did the feel of those muscular arms around him, keeping him safe from the hostile world. He could never feel anything but safe when he was with Ikkaku, and he could never belong anywhere as perfectly as he belonged in Ikkaku's embrace.

"Eh? Fuck off, whoever the hell you are," Ikkaku said, his raspy voice pitched low but still carrying. Yumichika froze like a startled deer, his eyes flying open again, his blush returning with full force.

"Ikkaku!" He recognized Sachiko's voice, hesitant and small, now, doing its best to beguile. There was a soft rustle of greenery as she emerged from the path into the deeper brush. "I was looking for y..."

Yumichika could practically _feel_ the second her eyes made sense of exactly who Ikkaku was holding here in the bushes, who was being embraced in secrecy away from prying eyes. He thought he might die of shame then and there, just _considering_ what she could be making of this.

"I'm busy," Ikkaku shortly barked, in no way helping the situation. "Go away! _Go away_, I said! I'll deal with you later!"

"What did he tell you?" Her voice rose to a shrill howl that nearly matched the volume of Ikkaku's own when he snarled, "I'll deal with you _later_, I said! Now _go away_!"

He absently squeezed Yumichika a little, picking up on the slender man's trembles without even being aware of it. Sachiko wisely retreated, leaving the two of them alone once more.

"Heh. Stupid," Ikkaku lowly growled, roughing the back of Yumichika's hair and resting one powerful hand on his bare nape. "What a bother she is."

"I hope she was worth it," Yumichika softly said, relaxing again now that she was gone.

"Eh, she was okay, I guess," Ikkaku noted, shrugging and letting him go. "Just a girl like any other, nothing special."

"Did you think she would be so different?" Yumichika asked, composing himself, still standing so close to Ikkaku that the barest movement would have put him right up against the lean man. Ikkaku, though, made no move to put distance between them. He'd never minded Yumichika's nearness, though he certainly wasn't one for casual touching. Yumichika knew that the acceptance was due to their long companionship, because aside from the women he delighted in bedding, Ikkaku had a viciously defended bubble of personal space that tolerated no violation.

"Ah, well, she's noble," Ikkaku said by way of explanation, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword, the other curled over his hipbone in an unconscious posture of authority. "I thought that _something_ would be different."

Yumichika wiped his face and got himself under control, straightening his clothes and smoothing his hair, hoping he didn't look a total mess.

"Yumichika," Ikkaku said, getting his attention. "Remember what I told you. You're better than anyone here and you know it, brat - but if they think you're from the Open Rose, then show them what kind of pride that House has."

"I will," Yumichika said, smiling at him with cool, haughty grace that made Ikkaku chuckle.

"There you go," the bald man said, shaking him gently by the nape again and giving him a tug towards the path. "Now, come on. I'm sure there's something we're supposed to be doing right now, eh?"

"Ah, Ikkaku, you're hopeless," Yumichika lightly told him, because it was as good as a thank you between them - debt didn't exist in their friendship; being there for each other was payment enough. "How can you be so inattentive to your schedule? It isn't beautiful, you know, being late."

"Heh, sure it is," Ikkaku laughed, dragging him out, unmindful of the startled students rushing to their next course, too concerned about being late to be worried about what the two of them were doing. "What happens when you get in late to a class, Yumichika, eh? _Everyone_ looks at you."

It was such a blatant appeal to his vanity that Yumichika had to laugh, and when Ikkaku began to run, Yumichika ran gracefully beside him, his head held high with a pride that only Ikkaku could inspire in him.

* * *

Surprisingly, it took over a year for the Spiritual Arts Academy to realize who Yumichika was and how much of the rumor was grounded in truth. Honestly, it had been so long that Yumichika had begun to believe those in charge were careless and that he and Ikkaku were safely anonymous. But, alas, it wasn't meant to be...

"Yes? What is it?"

All of the students looked around at the door, where a group of white-robed men had knocked for entrance, interrupting their battleground strategies study.

"Ah! Please forgive me!" the instructor said, recognizing them and falling into a deep bow. "How can we be of service?"

"Please, continue your exercise," the eldest of the men said, so old that his eyes had virtually vanished in a sea of wrinkles. "Ayasegawa Yumichika, Madarame Ikkaku, please come with us."

They exchanged a bewildered look, then Ikkaku headed out of the room with Yumichika gliding gracefully at his heels.

"What's this?" Ikkaku asked as soon as the doors slid closed, giving them privacy for what was to come.

"It has come to our attention that you are not the person you claim to be, Ayasegawa Yumichika," another solemn, white-robed man said, his voice pitched low to prevent the curious from overhearing. "As you all may or may not know, we do checks on the individuals who apply to the academy, and our investigation into your past has raised some interesting details, your residence at the House of Open Roses not the oddest of them."

Yumichika showed nothing on his face, but he didn't really need to - Ikkaku's was expressive enough of bewilderment to cover the both of them, and he knew that Ikkaku's bewilderment led directly to outrage within a very short time.

"You were born as Ichigawa Kanesuke to the Ichigawa Clan Head Daichi and slated to join the Stealth Force once you had attained your majority," they were told. "You fled from an arranged marriage and lived for some time in the House of Open Roses under a capacity the House was unwilling to share with us. You were remanded to your father's custody, and on the thirteenth day of Falling Leaves you were sold to one Madarame Ikkaku at the cost of one _Kan_ - "

"_Two million_!" Ikkaku snarled. "More if I'd have had it!"

"Ikkaku," Yumichika softly said, calming him. To the men, he added, "Please, continue."

"We contacted the Ichigawa family and confirmed that this is the truth," the man said. "However, the Family Head wished us to convey a message to you - that you have been reinstated as a Prince of the Ichigawa family and that you are given the full backing of your noble House as per the order of Ichigawa Clan Head Kenji. Your father has been buried with full honor in the family mausoleum and you are permitted to come pay your respects at any time, as well as make use of the family grounds and manor as your own. Also, it was requested of us here at the academy to give you the honor due to a Prince. As such, we are willing to hasten your training and prepare you a place as a lesser seated officer in the Thirteen Division Imperial Guards."

Yumichika covered his confusion with a mild look of interest, still shocked to hear that his father had died and left Eldest Brother as Clan Head in such a short time. Not only that, but he'd been given his proper status and respect back.

"There was a second request to you, Madarame Ikkaku - and that is to rescind the deed of sale according you control over Ichigawa Kanesuke with the understanding that all funds will be fully repaid," the man said.

Ikkaku opened his mouth to respond, but it was Yumichika who lightly said, "No."

"Eh?"

"No, thank you, gentlemen," he said, hoping his voice was steady. Out of everything he'd just learned, only one truth stood out to alarm him - if he was to accept this, he would never see Ikkaku again - not as friends, not as equals. "I wish to remain in the academy as an ordinary student and earn my place with my talent. I thank my Clan Head for his consideration and I will visit him to tell him such, but I am no more Ichigawa Kanesuke now than I am Madarame Ikkaku. I am Ayasegawa Yumichika and I will remain here with Ikkaku."

_Everyone_ stared at him, and not just because he was beautiful.

"What?! _Yumichika_!" Ikkaku shouted, riling himself into a fine fit of temper. "Are you _crazy_ -"

"Not at all," he softly answered, smiling. "You bought me fair and square. I couldn't possibly live with decent people again after having been so sullied by your awful manners."

Ikkaku glared at him, then grinned, pleased as Yumichika knew he would be.

"We understand that the sale was made under the duress of death," the man said, insisting that Yumichika fully comprehend his situation. "You are under no obligation to uphold such a contract."

"This man has saved me in so many ways that I cannot even explain them all," Yumichika said, smiling fondly at Ikkaku, who was already done with the business at hand and busy contemplating something else. "When my family turned their backs on me, he loaned me his own protection. When I faced starvation and death from my own ineptitude, he taught me how to survive. I owe him a debt of friendship and I am unwilling to leave him for any reason, even for all of the riches in Soul Society."

"Mushy brat," Ikkaku called him, but he was puffed up like a peacock himself with the praise. "Don't worry, it's just a piece of paper. Yumichika is his own master and he always has been. It was just a way to get him out alive. Now, can we go train, or what?"

There was reluctance, but the men finally bowed their heads and agreed, saying, "If you ever decide to change your mind, Ayasegawa Yumichika, the offer will always stand."

They exchanged bows, and the solemn men headed off, leaving Yumichika alone with Ikkaku, who still looked faintly bewildered and ready to be mad about something.

"Well. That was interesting."

"_Interesting_?!" Ikkaku echoed, and laughed sharply. "Yumichika, what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that I've been happier in your company these past years than I ever was with my family," Yumichika told him, finding himself memorizing Ikkaku's expression, relishing the fact that he wouldn't be separated from his only true friend, the man he'd secretly loved since they were children together. "If I have a choice between all of that and you, I'd rather stay here. After all, you're an idiot. What would you do without me to smooth over your social ineptitude?"

Ikkaku laughed again, getting that mad, wild gleam in his eyes that meant an exhausting fight was on its way.

"Social ineptitude, huh? If I knew what that meant I'd be angry, I think!"

Yumichika smirked, happy that Ikkaku was willing to play along and be distracted. He was no more an idiot than Yumichika was a helpless brat, but they both appreciated their roles in their friendship and accepted each other based on their mutual "need" where the other was concerned.

"Actually, I think I _am_ angry!" Ikkaku said, his fierce grin appearing. "Let's take this outside, Ayasegawa!"

"Naturally, Madarame," Yumichika coolly said, smoothing his hair. "I wouldn't want you breaking anything here."

Much later, once they both had washed off the sweat of their fight and changed into their nightclothes, Ikkaku joined Yumichika outside of their barracks room and sat down next to him, his long legs dangling over the side of the raised terrace.

"Hey, Yumichika."

"Hm?"

"You okay?" Ikkaku asked, leaning his elbows on the lowest rail and looking over at the slender young man. "I mean...you didn't part well with him. Is that okay with you?"

Yumichika didn't respond for a moment. He couldn't even look at Ikkaku because he was afraid he would start to cry.

"Thank you, Ikkaku," he softly said, smiling to cover the odd ache in his heart that regretted the way he'd left his father. "You always know when to distract me."

"Eh, well, I figured that you'd rather fight than think about it," he admitted. "Now it's just the two of us, you can tell me if you need to."

Yumichika looked at him then, thinking that nothing could ever be as precious to him as Ikkaku's narrow, stern face with its constant look of irritated bad humor. It reflected so little of who Ikkaku truly was, but it served as a reminder that Yumichika knew him better than anyone.

"I know I can, Ikkaku," he murmured. "And thank you. I'm not alone because of you. I never realized how lonely I was in that place."

Ikkaku draped his arm over Yumichika's shoulders and gave him a soft squeeze.

"You'll never be alone as long as I'm here, Yumichika."

He smiled then, his grey eyes crinkling a little at the edges, his white teeth shining in a grin that instantly transformed him into the boy who'd once carried Yumichika on his back away from his cruel father.

"There, that's better," Ikkaku said when Yumichika gave him an answering smile. "Smiles suit you more than frowns, Yumichika - I know how much you like to be beautiful."

Yumichika blushed lightly, pleased, soothed by the off-hand compliment and Ikkaku's comforting nearness. "You've never said that before."

"What?" Ikkaku asked, letting go of his shoulders to lean on the rail again.

"That I'm beautiful."

"No sense feeding your ego," Ikkaku teased, smirking. "Besides, why would I tell you something you know is true? You're the one always telling me you're no girl, then trying to kick my ass to prove it. You're beautiful, everyone knows it, why should I say anything?"

"Ah, Ikkaku, you're so simple sometimes," Yumichika sighed, leaning on the railing with him so that their elbows pressed together. "But I _like_ hearing it."

"Brat," Ikkaku called him. "Don't expect it again, it just slipped out."

"It's okay, I only need to hear it once from you to know that you think it," Yumichika told him, and laughed at the fierce scowl that earned him. He sighed then, looking up at the stars and saying, "I wish I had sent him a letter. I wish I had at least _tried_."

"Yumichika...I don't know if you regret it, but I can't say I'm sorry for what I did," Ikkaku told him, his grey eyes steeled for one of Yumichika's rare true tempers. "I'm sorry your dad died without you being able to talk to him again, but I'll never be sorry I took you away from him."

Touched, Yumichika shook his head and whispered, "No, I don't regret it. I might not have even outlived him if you hadn't come for me, Ikkaku. I'll always be glad that you saved me."

"We were lucky that day. Luh-_key_," Ikkaku lowly said, his tone cajoling, trying to win a smile and lighten Yumichika's mood.

"Very lucky," he agreed, and laughing together with Ikkaku felt so much better than weeping all alone.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Sorry for the mistakes! I work on Google docs on my laptop and for some reason the uber-sensitive tracpad wants to highlight and erase while I'm typing. No excuses, just an explanation :) Sorry again!**_

* * *

Whether Ikkaku liked it or not, Kido was Yumichika's secret, guilty pleasure. Though he made a show of reluctance whenever Ikkaku was near - even when helping his frustrated, endearing friend with the basic techniques required for graduation - Yumichika was actually delighted by Kido and everything that it could enable him to do.

For instance, healing Ikkaku without him realizing it.

"Yes, it is possible," his instructor said, answering his posed question. There were only three others in this specialized, post-class session, and they, too, seemed keenly interested by the idea. "The best target would be someone whose sensitivity to Kido is very dull. Of course, that does inhibit the restorative properties as well, making the healing less effective than it might have been. Tell me, Ayasegawa, is there some practical purpose you feel this could serve?"

"Perhaps gaining skill in such subtle restoration would aide relief members in providing superficial care to those of the direct combat division," Yumichika said, thinking of Ikkaku's aversion to all things Kido. "It is rumored that there is a certain amount of resistance to such techniques."

"I believe you mean Squad Eleven," their teacher said, smiling slightly. "An unfortunate group of people, by all rights, and perfectly disdainful of our powerful art. However, I can see your point, Ayasegawa. They _do_ tend to make it difficult for the relief squad to assist them. Someone of your level should have no trouble healing people like that without their awareness, but I highly doubt you would be placed in the Fourth Division. The Kido Corps will, no doubt, have a place more suited for your abilities."

"Teacher, what about drawing the spirit back from death?" It was Onaga Tamotsu asking, someone who'd been in every Kido class with Yumichika since day one, and somewhat of a friend to him as well.

The teacher's grave expression stilled Tamotsu's usual smile, but he answered all the same.

"Death is a part of the cycle, a part of the Death Gods' lives," he said. "Drawing a spirit back from death is cheating it from its potential. The only known Kido able to perform such a heretical act require the direct transition of another soul. In other words, these forbidden Kido are self-sacrificing, draining the caster of every particle of life force in order to impart it onto the target."

"But it _can_ be done?" Yumichika softly asked, confirming.

"Yes. It _can_ be done, but it _shouldn't_ be done. Now, let us turn our minds to more practical things..."

Yumichika accepted the change in subject, but his mind was carefully turning over the idea of a self-sacrificing Kido. Would he resort to such tactics in order to avoid seeing Ikkaku die? At least, by sacrificing himself, he wouldn't be around for Ikkaku to pummel when he realized what had happened. Whatever it was that had happened to Ikkaku in the World of the Living, whatever tragedy that had transported him here alone with just his sword, it was not something that Ikkaku ever, _ever_ spoke of.

But it was something he wanted to escape, and badly, even after all of these years.

'_Who are you to deny him_?'

Yumichika ignored the Azure Peacock, shaking his head a little. The insufferable, vain spirit always tended to surface during Kido instruction, and delighted in Yumichika's ability to wield the powerful "magic". Yumichika had long ago begun to suspect that Ruri'iro Kujaku was no more a direct-combat spirit like Hozukimaru than he was an ice spirit.

But Ruri'iro Kujaku kept his own council. He refused to reveal himself in such an ugly, common way, and Yumichika was too frightened of the truth to force the issue.

The distant gong sounded for the evening notice, freeing the students for their meal and free time.

"Remember, all four of you! To even _discuss_ the Forbidden Kido outside of this room is a punishable offense," their instructor warned them. "If there are no more questions, then you are dismissed."

Yumichika breathed a sigh of relief, his head aching slightly in a way that told him Ruri'iro Kujaku was spoiling for a meeting. But he was tired, hungry, and too distracted to even consider sword meditation, so he just gathered his things and quickly headed out in the hopes of finding Ikkaku. If anyone could distract him from his thoughts, it would be his loud, ridiculous, loveable fool.

"Ayasegawa!"

Yumichika turned when he heard his name called, and waited with expressionless calm for Tamotsu to catch him up.

"Good! I was afraid you didn't hear me!" the man said, panting a little, his glasses sliding down his nose. He shoved them up, losing them beneath a spill of shaggy brown hair that Yumichika found uninspiring at best. Yet, despite his indifferent manner of dressing and carelessness towards his appearance, Tamotsu still managed to be someone whom Yumichika had grown rather fond of. "Where are you off to?"

"To find Ik - "

" - find Ikkaku, yeah, yeah, I should know better than to ask," Tamotsu laughed, and seemed even more pleased when Yumichika tipped his nose up in offense. "What's the rush?"

"Why do you care?" Yumichika asked, smoothing his hair. He'd kept it short out of pure, stubborn orneriness when he'd realized that Ikkaku didn't care for it. If Madarame Ikkaku was going to lay siege to the beds of the Academy's not-so-unwilling women, then Yumichika was going to do something _Ikkaku_ didn't like, thank you very much! "Tamotsu, I know I'm beautiful, but you shouldn't get the wrong idea."

"How could anyone?" Tamotsu asked, laughing again. He was always laughing, even though life hadn't dished him kindness, either. Instead of ferociously striking back at it, Tamotsu threw himself into learning, into changing, into making a new place for himself where he could be comfortable. He prided himself on finding a happy outcome for even the most dire of situations. It was refreshing sometimes to be around someone who _wasn't_ actively seeking to die... "I don't listen to gossip, Yumichika, but I _do_ have eyes, and all the better for wearing glasses. Even a dead man could see where you've thrown your net."

"I beg your pardon?" Yumichika inquired, offering him a tight, frosty smile. "Shall I practice my Hado on you, Tamotsu? _Eh_?"

"No, no!" Tamotsu held up his hands in mock surrender. "Who cares what I say, anyway? But, it worries me, you know. You're one of the best Kido practitioners the Academy has seen in a long time - both of us are! But I know when they come to recruit, you'll give it up to go wherever Ikkaku goes. Yumichika, I'd think after so long that we're friendly enough for me to bring it up. "

"There's nothing to bring up!" Yumichika sharply informed him, swinging away to continue along the path. "Mind your own business, Tamotsu!"

"I just wanted to know, Yumichika, why you're wasting all of your talent and potential on a walking _corpse_!"

Yumichika stopped in utter shock, his eyes wide. Behind him, Tamotsu stirred but didn't come any closer.

"He's as good as dead, Yumichika. You take Kido in secret, you don't speak of your accomplishments, you don't allow anyone else to be close to you...I just wonder, why do you bother when he hates the things you love? Why do you bother when he's determined to _die_?" There was genuine bewilderment in Tamotsu's soft voice, and genuine affection, too. "No one likes you, you know. Because you won't let anyone in but _him_. And what's going to happen when he's dead? You'll be all alone, and your only accomplishments will be _his_."

Yumichika hugged his arms across his chest, shivering, _wounded_. Of course it was true. Leave it to someone as simple as Tamotsu to come up with such a straightforward explanation. He'd given his heart to a dead man walking, a dead man who didn't even _want_ it. He'd sworn to the Azure Peacock - and more than once over time - that if he could not have Ikkaku's love, then he would dedicate himself to ensuring that Ikkaku would lack for nothing he ever wanted, and _that_ was how he would take solace.

'_You're sentencing yourself to a lifetime of pain_,' Ruri'iro Kujaku had warned him. '_And the sad thing is, Ikkaku has no idea you've done something so pathetic! Do you think he would thank you? Hm? When has that man ever thanked _anyone_? Dying alone isn't beautiful, darling boy. Living a life of tragic, unrequited love isn't beautiful! What point is there in having such perfect plumage, Yumichika, if you never show it off_?'

"I don't understand what you feel for him," Tamotsu gently said, drawing silently closer. "Maybe he really _did_ buy you, just like they say. If he did, then he's as careless of you as he is of himself; he certainly doesn't act like a man with a priceless treasure..."

"_Stop_." Yumichika took a deep breath, his hands fisting in his clothing, his heart in turmoil while the Azure Peacock laughed softly inside of his empty soul. "You're right - you _don't_ understand what I feel. Whether he knows it or not, whether he cares or not, I will always be his."

"Well," Tamotsu said, his voice low and quiet. "Then I've finally heard a sad story that I can't make a happy ending for."

"_Hey_," Ikkaku's rough, low voice startled both of them, as did his nearness when he stepped out onto the path between them - Yumichika had been so upended by his turmoil that he hadn't even sensed Ikkaku's approach. He heard a soft sound behind him and turned to find that Ikkaku had forced Tamotsu back a step. "He bothering you, Yumichika? What've I told you people about pestering him, _eh_?"

"Leave him, Ikkaku, he isn't bothering me," Yumichika hastily said, laying a restraining hand on his arm. Coiled muscle tightened beneath the layers of his clothes, then relaxed, recognizing the touch. "He's a classmate."

"And a friend," Tamotsu daringly added, not nearly as intimidated by Ikkaku as most people were.

"Well, keep it more friendly, _friend_," Ikkaku warned, glaring at him. "If I catch you making him upset again, I'll _pound_ you, understand?"

"I imagine so," Tamotsu said, his hands clenching. "It's about the _only_ thing you'll do for him."

"Why you little - !"

"_Ikkaku_!" Yumichika latched onto his arm and pulled backwards with everything in him, keeping the lean but powerful man from lunging forward. "_Leave him alone_!"

"You should go," Ikkaku lowly growled, his hands still balled into fists. "You're not the kind of guy I usually bother fighting, but that won't keep me from hurting you."

"I'll see you in class, Yumichika," Tamotsu said, as if Ikkaku wasn't even there. "Please, think about what I've said..."

Ikkaku didn't relax until the other man was out of sight, and when he did he still didn't seem too happy about it.

"Some friend," he scoffed, turning to look at the young man still clinging to his arm. "He upset you, Yumichika. Why do you let him?"

"You upset me constantly, Ikkaku," Yumichika reminded him. "Why do I let _you_?"

Ikkaku grinned suddenly, his grey eyes crinkling, and said, "Because you wouldn't know what to do if I didn't tease you, Yumichika, eh?"

"Stupid," Yumichika breathed, trembling a little in the aftermath of tension. "Don't threaten my friends, I have few enough of them as it stands."

"What do you need them for, anyway?" Ikkaku asked, absently plucking a stray leaf from the crown of Yumichika's head. "When we're done here, there's no telling who will wind up where. It's better not to make bonds you'll have to break, Yumichika. That sort of thing can wait until you're settled."

_You're_ settled, not _we're_ settled...

'_I just wanted to know, Yumichika, why you're wasting all of your talent and potential on a walking _corpse!'

"I'll need _someone_ when you've gone," Yumichika breathed, unable to look at Ikkaku's beloved face, because all he could think of was that one day he'd see it slack with death, entombed somewhere in the darkness to be forgotten by the world, and all of the wonder of him with it...

"Eh? Where'm I going?" Ikkaku questioned, frowning. "Don't be so gloomy, Yumichika! What a face! Smile for me, eh? I came to find you so I could give you _this_."

Yumichika looked over reluctantly, surprised to see that Ikkaku was holding a slender, leather-bound book.

"What is it?" he asked, turning to take it, his eyes widening when he realized that he was holding a neatly copied book of advanced Kido incantations. "I...Ikkaku..."

"It's _that_ day," Ikkaku reminded him, his grey eyes carefully taking in his reactions. He covered his uncertainty well, but Yumichika had decades of experience in the subtle nuances of Madarame Ikkaku, and he recognized it all the same. "I thought you might get some use out of that, even if magic is cheating."

'_Why do you bother, when he hates the things you love_?'

"If it's cheating, then why would you get this for me?" Yumichika softly asked, holding the precious book with respect.

Ikkaku shrugged, his broad shoulders shifting. He grinned a little and watched Yumichika from under his lids as he said, "Because it's something you like, Yumichika. Kido isn't for me, I'm not smart enough for all that - but it's no problem for you. You're smart enough to be able to use it, so I thought I would get it for you."

Yumichika couldn't help but smile, running reverent fingers over the cover, warmed by Ikkaku's thoughtfulness.

"Thank you, Ikkaku," he murmured, turning his face up to Ikkaku's and smiling his most beautiful smile. Ikkaku actually blushed a little, and rubbed the back of his head with one hand in a gesture that Yumichika had seen countless times before. "All of these years, you've never forgotten."

"Er...yeah, well, I know how upset you get around now," Ikkaku said, cutting his eyes away as if something about Yumichika's smile unsettled or disturbed him. "I don't understand why you let it bother you still, that whole single _Kan_ thing, but it _does_."

"So you always bring me a gift to make me smile?" Yumichika fished, hoping for _something_.

Ikkaku's blush deepened and he reacted as he usually did when cornered - he yelled.

"_Shut up_, Yumichika! You always act so mopey and sad! Am I a man, letting my best friend walk around depressed? _Eh_?! _Stupid_ Yumichika! Why can't you just be happy? It's just a stupid day, that's all!"

"Ikkaku," Yumichika said, interrupting his rant to lay a delicate hand on Ikkaku's warm shoulder. "Thank you. For everything you've done, thank you."

Ikkaku looked at him warily from the corners of his beautiful grey eyes, then softly said, "Eh...shut up, stupid. Didn't I tell you, not too much?"

'_It isn't that he hates the things I love_,' Yumichika thought, giving Ikkaku such a brilliant smile that Ikkaku reluctantly returned it with his own wide, pleased grin. '_We're just different people, that's all. Different people who take care of one another as best we can, in the only ways we know how. If Ikkaku is a walking corpse, then aren't we _all_? How much time is any one of us promised? Ikkaku's regrets are _my_ regrets; I have none of my own and I will not start with regretting my devotion to Madarame Ikkaku..._'

"Stupid Yumichika," Ikkaku called him again, and slung one muscular arm over his shoulders, giving him a squeeze before urging Yumichika to walk alongside him. "That friend of yours, is he always so annoying?"

"Tamotsu?" Yumichika asked, surprised that Ikkaku would bring him up. "He's not _annoying_, Ikkaku! He's a scholar."

"He can't fight, can he?" Ikkaku accused, like it was reason enough to be dismissed out of turn.

"Oh, I wouldn't say _that_," Yumichika murmured, thinking of Tamotsu's formidable Kido ability. "He's in the Academy, Ikkaku - he has to be able to handle his Soul Cutter, just as _you_ have to be able to handle Kido."

"Heh, we'll see," Ikkaku said, letting go of him with a short shove.

"_Ikkaku_," Yumichika sharply said, stopping, waiting until Ikkaku stopped and turned around. "If you start a brawl with Tamotsu - "

Ikkaku's grey eyes searched him, narrowing in suspicion, a scowl curving his fine lips. His gaze was so intense that Yumichika actually blushed. He closed the gap between them with two long, stomping strides and took Yumichika by the chin, tipping his head up to glare down into his surprised, wide eyes.

"You listen to me, Yumichika," Ikkaku growled. "_Listen_, I said! That man is bad news, you hear me? You steer clear of him, understand? If I catch him coming around you again, I'll pound him!"

He gave Yumichika a soft shake by his chin, still scowling.

"You're too good for the likes of _that_ guy," Ikkaku told him, sending Yumichika's heart into a fluttering spiral of mingled panic and overwhelming joy. "Don't you forget it, not _ever_, Yumichika."

"I won't, Ikkaku," Yumichika softly breathed, struggling to keep his emotions under control. "It was two million, after all."

Surprise filled Ikkaku's grey eyes, as if he hadn't even been thinking of such a thing, but he quickly covered it with his usual quick grin, tipping his head back at an arrogant angle.

"That's right, brat," the man said, letting go of his chin with one last, lingering squeeze. "Now, there's something else."

"I...beg your pardon?" Yumichika squeaked, barely able to breathe when he was standing so close. It always flustered him in ways that he didn't understand, made his blood rush and his heart ache so strangely.

"We're going to see your family," Ikkaku told him, almost offhandedly.

"_What_?!"

"Eh? What's this? You mad?" Ikkaku asked, glaring at him. "I go and arrange this for you and you're going to _complain_? _Heh?!_ What a brat!"

"My family?" Yumichika managed, stunned. "But, Ikkaku! We can't! It's - "

"Three more days before we have to be accounted for, and your brother made all of the arrangements for it," Ikkaku said, pleased with himself and not afraid to show it. "So stop being that way, Yumichika! You know how long it's been since you saw him last?"

"N...no..."

"Eh, me either," Ikkaku said, shrugging and then laughing when Yumichika punched him lightly on the arm. "But _he_ does. I wrote him and asked if you could come, and he jumped at the chance."

"Ikkaku, why would you do such a thing?" Yumichika asked him, surprised by how it warmed him but wondering at his motives all the same.

"Er...well..." He cast around for an appropriately Ikkaku-style answer, then just gave up and said in a low voice, "Because it means so much to you, Yumichika. I remember how you cried. I remember how devastated you were when he threw you out without a penny or even your true name. I thought...I thought if I could get you back where you belong, then this day would have a happier meaning for you from now on."

"_Ikkaku_!" Yumichika couldn't help it - he flung his arms around Ikkaku's broad shoulders and hugged him as tightly as he could manage.

"Ah, you're not angry," Ikkaku said, relieved, apparently mistaking the gesture at first. His strong arms came up to circle Yumichika's slender frame and he gave the smaller man a warm squeeze. "So, we should go, yeah?"

Yumichika was reluctant to let him go, but he always did so, every time it was required of him. With a restrained nod and a purely blissful smile, he said, "Yes, let's go. I can't wait, Ikkaku! Elder Brother will make sure you know what it's like to eat a good meal! You're going to love it!"

Ikkaku just listened to his animated chatter, grinning his satisfied grin and altogether entirely pleased with himself that this thirteenth Day of Falling Leaves was one to be remembered.

* * *

Being welcomed back into the Ichigawa family, even in an understated, intimate way, was more than Yumichika had expected it to be. Part of his childhood hurt, he realized, had been that his father _had_ taken away his name, and _had_ taken away his family. To be so reviled and utterly unwanted had affected him much more than he'd given it credit for, forming his shyness into snobbery, compounding his mistrust into active suspicion.

But now he had it back, and they _were _overjoyed to see him. Eldest Brother had always been kind, and it was wonderful to see everyone from the servants to his nearly-grown nieces and nephews greeting him with smiles on their faces. The death of Ichigawa Daichi, though properly mourned and observed, had truly rid their close world of a constricting, ugly presence.

"Welcome home, Kanesuke."

Eldest Brother had come in person to welcome them at their arrival, a smile on his pleasant face and his plentiful family around him. Yumichika's sisters watched from behind their sleeves, surreptitiously taking the measure of their long-absent brother and his intriguing companion. Word had spread, no doubt, about Madarame Ikkaku and his deeds, and his sisters had been present when the brash young man had made his offer.

"Elder Brother," Yumichika said, bowing low and amending it with, "Clan Head Ichigawa Kenji."

"Kanesuke," his brother said, fondly squeezing his shoulder. "I insist you call me Elder Brother. Things have changed here, and I can't bear formality. Ah! Madarame Ikkaku, I must admit I was surprised when you contacted me."

Ikkaku managed to turn his attention to the Clan Head, and even offered a restrained bow, which was surprising to Yumichika. Ikkaku never sought to actively offend with his actions, he simply didn't have the patience for niceties or the respect for status that such niceties required. Men were men, and they found their place in Ikkaku's respect through their actions, not their births.

"Thanks for making the arrangements, Ichigawa," Ikkaku said, shocking even Yumichika, but his Eldest Brother seemed pleased by it, and clapped Ikkaku on the shoulder.

"This is the young man who rescued Kanesuke," he announced, in case they needed reminding. "He's our honored guest! And we have our brother back, at least for a little while. I'd say this is cause for celebration!"

Yumichika quickly lost his icy reserve as he was taken back into the bosom of his family, laughing along with his sisters at Ikkaku's expression of bewildered consternation. It was entertaining to see Ikkaku so out of his element, but the gruff warrior handled himself with aplomb in the presence of nobility, his informality a cherished novelty to the noble Ichigawa clan.

The day was filled with discussion, sharing, and reacquainting himself with his extensive family. His brother had made matches for his sisters, who were quietly elated by his choices, as well as for his own elder children. Already the next Clan Head was being groomed, and his young bride along with him, both of them older than Yumichika. Yumichika's stepmother remained in the house with her young children and seemed happier for the absence of her strict husband. There had been, Yumichika found out, gentle inquiries from other Houses for her hand - she commanded a considerable dowry, thanks to his father, and she was quite young, younger than Yumichika's elder sisters.

In all, it was wonderful to find his place again, and to see all of those servants who had done their parts over the course of his childhood to spare the Ichigawa children what punishments they could. Kenji had, thankfully, been expansively generous with them in reward for their long service, and they had surprised him by staying on to serve the family.

Even Ikkaku seemed to be enjoying himself, talking swordcraft with Kenji's own sons while the children of the House ran screaming circles around them. Outside of his own experience with Ikkaku as a child, he'd never really seen the man interact with children before, and it faintly surprised Yumichika to see that Ikkaku was both comfortable and capable of dealing with them. He wondered if it had something to do with Ikkaku's past, which he never spoke of, and that led to deeper musings about Ikkaku's life in the World of the Living.

"Kanesuke."

Yumichika only turned when his sister-in-law tugged lightly on his sleeve to get his attention, a pretty blush on her round cheeks. She'd left girlhood behind long before Yumichika's birth, but she was still an attractive, mannered woman in the prime of her life, a perfect person to claim the title of the Clan Head's wife.

"Forgive me," she softly said, dimpling at him. She had seated him next to her while they indulged in light, after-dinner entertainment. "I am unused to calling you by _Yumichika_. Tell me, little brother, are you happy with your decision to remain with your friend?"

Her light brown eyes left his and landed on Ikkaku, who was on the floor surrounded by a gaggle of house children, Kenji's Stealth Force-bound sons, and younger servants who, in Yumichika's opinion, honestly should know better. Apparently there was a toy soldier battle in progress and the adults had decided to become involved in strategies, much to everyone's' amusement.

"Yes, I am," Yumichika answered her, smiling fondly at the sight of Ikkaku's familiar scowl. "He's a little...uncivilized, but his heart is in the right place."

"I admit, I never thought I would see either of you again when he left with you," she said, shivering slightly. "I was sure he was a criminal intent on doing you harm. Did you truly fight him, Kanesuke?"

"Ah, yes, several times," Yumichika said. "But only to practice. He's quite something with his sword, and he'll make a formidable Death God."

"And what of you?" she asked. "Do you intend to join the Stealth Force with your brothers?"

"No." Yumichika watched Ikkaku hold a whispered conversation with one of the children in charge of the yellow soldiers, while his brothers conferred with the opposing side. "No, I will go wherever Ikkaku goes."

"He _is_ a curious man," she noted, thoughtfully taking him in. "He shaves his head like a monk! But he certainly doesn't act like one, does he?"

Yumichika laughed, and started to correct her regarding Ikkaku shaving his head - which was an affectation on the other man's part, since he didn't have a hair one on his body except for the thin arches of his black brows - but his thoughts paused him. He'd never connected Ikkaku to any type of monk before, and the man was far from saintly, but there was an elusive _something_ there, especially in regards to Hozukimaru. Ikkaku had released it once in Yumichika's presence in order to show it off, and its form had been quite curious to him. He hadn't placed it until his sister-in-law mentioned monks, but Hozukimaru's released form was that of a _naginata_ - a weapon regularly wielded in the World of the Living by samurai, foot soldiers, and warrior monks.

"I doubt he was anything like that," Yumichika said.

"Oh? Was?" she inquired. "Has he been here so long?"

Yumichika smiled at her but said nothing, unwilling to tell her that Ikkaku had died before his time in the World of the Living. His training at the Academy had just emphasized how unusual Ikkaku's case truly was. People died in the world of the living, but even if they died young it was at their appointed time. Very rare was the case where death was unexpected, where someone actually _did_ die before their time. Ikkaku's death in the World of the Living had broken the timeline of his life and affected events in unforeseen ways, because he'd been intended to live and take part in other events, affecting other lives. Instead, he'd been thrown clear of the World of the Living to land in Soul Society with every memory of his life before, as if he'd never died in the first place. Perhaps those traits, perhaps his previous life had impacted Ikkaku more than even his instructors realized. And he'd arrived with Hozukimaru in hand as well...It was truly a curious thing.

"_Ha! We win_!"

Amused laughter brought Yumichika out of his wandering thoughts and he laughed himself at the victorious grins that Ikkaku's side was sporting. There was a call for _sake_ and a rematch, and the children hastened to reset the battlefield.

"Hey, Yumichika!" Ikkaku called, gesturing him over. "Come give us a hand!"

His smile widened and he gracefully rose to take his place at Ikkaku's side, all dark thoughts forgotten.

* * *

Long, long after the children had been put to bed and the toy armies nestled carefully in their cedar boxes, the adults, too, retired for the night to rest their _sake_-soaked heads. Yumichika's room had been prepared for him, everything kept as he'd left it. He was dismayed to find that Ikkaku was given a room in the guest wing, but he wasn't surprised all the same. Ikkaku was an honored guest, and such an honor required that a room be given. It wouldn't do at all to have Ikkaku spend the night anywhere else...

Yumichika reluctantly went to his own room, anxious about Ikkaku in some vague, formless way. Ikkaku, however, seemed quite happy to be taken to his room by the somber head servant, and amused by the two giggling maids sent in his wake to help him settle. Yumichika would've gladly blasted them with Kido if Ikkaku hadn't been looking, then mentally berated himself for being his father's son after all.

He dismissed the servants to put himself to bed, unable to shake his unease. Despite having paid his respects to his father, he couldn't help but feel the lingering hostility of the old man gathering around him. It left him sleepless and anxious to the point that he finally decided to get up mere hours after, his head aching slightly from tiredenss.

'_I wonder how Ikkaku is_...'

'_Sleeping, like any other normal man_,' Ruri'iro Kujaku spat, utterly disgusted with him. 'Please_! If you don't get some rest, you'll look like something a stray chewed up and you know it! Being beautiful takes _work_, Yumichika! Well...at least, for _you...'

"Shut up," Yumichika breathed, pushing the nosy spirit to the back of his awareness. He darkly thought that all of his sword meditation had been a bad idea, if this was the result. Ruri'iro Kujaku was a constant irritation anymore, what with his vociferous opinions and irritating vanity. Yumichika knew he was just frustrated, though - the spirit was more than ready to prove what he could do, but Yumichika wouldn't allow it.

He pulled his kimono on over his nightclothes so that he wouldn't be an utter disgrace if someone saw him, and slipped silently out of his room to go check on Ikkaku. He might not be resting easily in such a spacious, well-kept house, especially in his own room. Even when they'd stopped sharing a bed, the two of them had never stopped sharing a room, or else a space with a hundred other people, like in the barracks. Perhaps Ikkaku, like Yumichika, was uneasy in such silence, and would be glad of some company.

It certainly wasn't that he got lonely _without_ that infuriating man! ...Was it?

The door was open an inch, probably from carelessness, and the screen opposite was wide open to let in the cool night air as well as the moonlight. Yumichika eased the door open just a little more and slid inside, once more blissfully proud that he was so slender and limber.

Ikkaku was snoring lightly, sprawled out on his bed in his usual manner, utterly relaxed and content.

"Stupid," Yumichika breathed, smiling fondly to see him. He settled quietly down next to Ikkaku's sleeping form and reached to tighten the sash on his nightclothes. Ikkaku always tied it with such negligence that he often woke up mostly naked, much to the amusement of their fellow barracks tenants. "How can you sleep so soundly?"

Moonlight cast a shadow on the ridges of his belly and dimple of his belly button. A scar from his fight with Kenpachi left a raised line of softer shadows, a mark to be remembered, a lesson to be cherished. Yumichika absently traced it with his fingertips, his deepening thoughts on that fight, on what that strange, powerful man had said.

"If you make me hard, Yumichika, it's going to be a problem."

Yumichika froze at the sleepy, raspy sound of Ikkaku's voice, embarrassed to realize that he'd traced the scar underneath Ikkaku's nightclothes clear down to the cup of his hip. He was so horrified by both his own actions and Ikkaku's crude suggestion that he couldn't respond, not even to move his hand.

"The braid is on the other side," Ikkaku told him, yawning. "And I mean it - unless you've changed your mind and you're a woman, don't make problems for me. It's too late to go hunting up one of those pretty servers."

Yumichika snatched his hand away like he'd been burned, his cheeks flaming, his fingertips still tingling with the sensation of Ikkaku's smooth skin.

"What is it, anyway? Can't sleep?" Ikkaku inquired, as indifferent to this as he was to anything Yumichika ever did to him. Yumichika couldn't decide if Ikkaku truly didn't mind it, or if it affected him so little, if he was just _that_ comfortable with Yumichika, that it seemed natural. Either way, there was such a lack of actual interest that it acted like iced water every time. If Ikkaku had just shown him a _hint_ of curiosity, then maybe he could be brave; but instead all Yumichika got was this easy acceptance, repeated surety that it fell within the realms of close friendship.

"Eh? What are you thinking, Yumichika, huh?" Ikkaku asked, shifting over to make room for him atop the bedding. Ikkaku never slept beneath anything because he didn't like the constriction.

One strong, certain hand closed around Yumichika's delicate wrist and gave him a tug that upended him, landing him on the bed at Ikkaku's side in a decidedly ungainly puddle of clothing.

"It's _here_, I said," Ikkaku said, sliding Yumichika's trapped hand into his clothes again on the other side, where Yumichika's braid was tied just above that fascinating place where his lean belly narrowed into his groin. "_See_? Damned brat, thinking I'd left it somewhere. Ha!" He tugged Yumichika's hand up, then, dragging the slender man up against his side. "Stupid. Why can't you sleep?"

Yumichika took several deep, slow breaths to gather his wits, stunned that he'd been so inappropriate _twice_, and once at Ikkaku's insistence. Ikkaku just lay there flopped onto his back with his nightclothes mostly undone now, and Yumichika lying at his side like a frozen plank, eyes wide.

"_You're_ stupid!" he finally managed, sitting up in a flurry to untie Ikkaku's sash, then tie it with a firmness that made the man yelp. "Sleeping half naked in a house where the servants come and go like thieves! Shameless!"

"Yeah, 'cause that's news," Ikkaku complained, yawning again. One shrewd grey eye slit open to scrutinize him. "You don't have to be afraid here, Yumichika, eh? I'm here with you. Like I'd let you come alone. I don't think anyone wants to hurt you, here, but I'm here all the same, aren't I? Come here."

Yumichika twisted a little to look down at him, his heart picking up its pace, feeling like it would burst in his chest and end up spilling his secrets. He wanted to kiss him. He'd never wanted to kiss anyone before in his life, but he wanted to kiss Ikkaku and find out what those women liked so well about it.

Instead, he shed his kimono and lay down next to Ikkaku on his back, far enough away that the heat of the man's body barely reached him.

"I just came to check on you," he said, turning his head a little to take in Ikkaku's profile. He really was a handsome fellow, especially without the scowl. There was a nobility in his features that had nothing to do with breeding and everything to do with spirit.

"_Heh_, yeah right!" Ikkaku scoffed. "You're back here after all of this time and you got worried!"

"Well. How ugly," Yumichika breathed, sitting up with every intention to leave, his turmoil making him even more sleepless.

"Eh? Where're you going? Aren't you sleeping here?" Ikkaku asked, perplexed. With a startling amount of volume he yelled, "_Heh?! Yumichika! Coming in here and waking me up for nothing_ - "

Yumichika pounced on him, slapping his hand over Ikkaku's mouth to stifle his noise.

"_Hush_!" he hissed, giving him a shake. "Ikkaku! What are you thinking, yelling like that! You'll wake everyone!"

Ikkaku's eyes glinted with ornery delight. When Yumichika cautiously pulled his hand away, he noted with prim disapproval that Ikkaku was grinning.

"I'm not staying," he said, straightening. "Like you told me, I'm too old to be sleeping next to you."

"Nah," Ikkaku said, that one word stilling his movements. "To me you'll always be that little boy with a girl's face, wearing a kimono not half as pretty as you, poking your nose in the air and telling me you'll civilize me."

Unexpected tears pricked Yumichika's eyes but he smiled all the same, remembering that moment himself. They'd been so carelessly young, so stupidly sure of their own actions, yet somehow they had made it work.

Yumichika wordlessly turned and draped against Ikkaku's side, settling his hand on the man's chest over his heart.

"Think you can sleep now?" Ikkaku asked, shifting a little to pull him closer, settling into the bed with Yumichika with the ease of long practice.

"Ikkaku," Yumichika said in answer. "What happened to you before you came here?"

After a long silence, Ikkaku softly said, "It doesn't matter. It was a long time ago."

"You don't trust me enough to tell me after all of this time?" Yumichika breathed, unhappy with the truth of it.

"You're the _only_ one I trust, brat, and you know it," Ikkaku reminded him, a thread of warning in his voice. "But if you really want to know, Yumichika, then I'll tell you. I'm going to warn you, though. It's ugly."

Yumichika wriggled a little bit closer and softly said, "Most things are, Ikkaku. It's how we survive them that makes them beautiful."

Ikkaku took a deep, thoughtful breath, and slowly began.


	12. Chapter 12

_**This chapter has undergone so many rewrites it simply isn't funny. I hope it comes out like I envisioned it, and that it's worth it to whomever of you were waiting on it!**_

* * *

_You've never been to the World of the Living, Yumichika, but I can tell you this - unless it's changed since then, it's worse than any district 80. Everything was dirty, everything was ugly. I didn't know anything different than that. I never even knew who gave birth to me; she left me behind the minute it was over and no one knew who she was..._

The heavily armored man moved off of the road to the ditch to relieve his aching bladder, wishing the sun would just set already and stop making him so damned hot. He'd just started to release his long-held bladder when he heard a soft sound, almost like a snort or a laugh.

"Eh? What's this?" He hurriedly reined himself in, righting his clothing and casting around for whoever it was.

But the ditch was empty, and the fields beyond weren't ready for picking and as unpopulated as the sky.

"Hajime! Hurry it up already!"

"I heard something!" he shouted back, scowling. "Go ahead, if you're so impatient! I'll catch up to you! I'll _catch up_, I said!"

He looked around one more time, but saw nothing more than some discarded baskets, a few broken pots, and a bloody bundle of ruined clothes. He just started to consider resuming his task when the bundle wriggled and that low laugh came again. Alarmed, he touched his prayer beads once for reassurance, and lifted the edge of the bundled cloth with the tip of his _naginata_.

A bloody infant lay in the gore of its birth, flakes of matter drying on its blotchy skin, its belly an angry red around the stub of its raggedly cut cord. Despite the heat, it didn't cry - it just made that soft sound like a laugh, low and bubbling.

"Ah!" Hajime bent down and uncovered it, discovering a nude baby boy beneath the messy cloth. His brown eyes took the measure of that baby, his fingers idly rubbing a corner of the cloth, his mind absently noticing that it was fine stuff, indeed. "Who left you for dead, little man, eh?"

Having come from a large family himself, he was no stranger to handling children, even newly-born ones. Gently, he lifted the baby free of its gory wrapping and held him up.

And he promptly urinated all down the front of Hajime's armored chest.

"Ah! You little shit! Ha!" Laughing, he stood up and hefted the naked infant, calling, "Oi! Look here! Look what someone left!"

"What is that, Hajime?"

"Put that down! We don't have time for strays!"

"It's a _baby_!" he shouted, his own urgent need to relieve himself forgotten. "A baby! A _baby_, I said! Ha! Look!"

They paused on the road, willing to wait and see what he'd managed to unearth there in that ditch. Hajime jumped the channel and ran lightly over to them, the baby tucked in one arm, his _naginata_ held up in the other.

"Look here, a fine little man," he said, offering the quiet infant for his Elder's appraisal. "And he's sound of limb."

"But quiet," Elder Brother observed, his brows drawing down in concern. He loosened his cowl and let the white cloth fall down around his throat, revealing his weathered, lined face. "Perhaps there's something else wrong that _isn't_ in his limbs..."

"We _have_ lost more than a few apprentices to battle."

"Three just yesterday. Perhaps, perhaps if he's sound..."

Hajime listened anxiously, eager to bring the baby into the fold, eager to have a subordinate of his own to nurture and train. He'd done his twelve years of meditation and service, so technically...

"You smell like piss, Hajime," Elder Brother noted, disapproval in his hard eyes.

"Yeah, he went down my front when I lifted him," Hajime told them, laughing along with them, willing to play the clown.

"We're wasting time," Elder Brother said, moving on. Since he didn't directly order Hajime to leave the baby, he took it as implied permission and fell into the back in his customary place.

"Oi, Hajime, how will you feed him?"

"I'll find someone," he said, looking down at the quiet baby. Really, he'd never known an infant to be so quiet.

"Who will change him when he messes?"

"I will, I said!" Hajime told them, undaunted. "It's only for a little while! He's no different than any child we've taken in."

"He's bound to be hungry soon."

"Well, maybe, but so far - "

Hajime cut off as the baby quite suddenly decided he'd had enough of being quiet and decided to exercise his lungs in the best way possible - by howling his fool head off.

"Oi! Hajime! Quiet that boy down!"

"Heh! At least his lungs are strong!" Hajime shouted, trying to make light of it. "Listen to that voice!"

"Like a knife in the eardrum..."

"Or a horn through the brain, one..."

Hajime jiggled the baby, trying to soothe him, and whispered to the screaming infant, "I don't care if you yell. You yell all you want and get those lungs strong! You'll need them for what we do, Tsunomaru..."

_Hajime gave me my first name. He raised me, even though he wasn't much older than I was when I found _you_, Yumichika. He took me to their monastery and I was raised alongside the other children, trained to meditate, to read, to write, but most importantly, to _fight_..._

Hajime smiled when he noticed Tsunomaru edging closer, thinking himself quite stealthy for all of his seven years. Truthfully, he wasn't bad. Though constant skirmishes between the Sohei and their enemies had interrupted the education of Tsunomaru and the other young boys of their order, he'd still managed to surprise his mentors with the sheer ferocity of his spirit.

"Ah, what do we have here, eh? A little mouse coming to see what the cat has?" Hajime paused in the act of sharpening his beloved blade and smiled at the flash of downcast, dark grey eyes. He understood now why Tsunomaru had been left by the side of the road. Those unusual eyes were pretty distinctive in that region, and no one wanted to admit the byblow of a foreigner into their noble family...

"How do you always see me, Hajime?" Tsunomaru complained, stomping out from his hiding place, his small hands bundled into fists. He was small for his age, but wiry, already hardened by the stringent demands of their order and lifestyle. Twice Hajime had taken him to the battlefield and hidden him closeby - birthing through flames, as it were - and twice little Tsunomaru had emerged with a better understanding of what honor truly meant. Truthfully, he was a damned dangerous little boy when he had to be, and his boisterous energy had his mentors pit him against much older boys to keep him from accidentally hurting his own agemates.

"Because blessed harmony gives fathers all the eyes they need to see pesky little boys like Tsunomaru," Hajime teased, watching those grey eyes flick to the sword he held. "Oh? It's this, now, is it?"

The little boy shifted from foot to foot, struggling to contain himself. Tsunomaru was often scolded for being too loud, but Hajime secretly delighted in it, thinking him the most wonderful kid in the world. Hajime had never fathered children of his own, but _this_ little bundle who'd pissed on him at their first meeting, _this_ little bundle of cocky confidence filled that void to bursting.

"You want this, Tsunomaru?" he asked, holding the sword aloft.

"_Yes_!" the boy cried, fiercely.

"Why?" Hajime asked, holding it out, but Tsunomaru didn't take it. He didn't lack the courage to, Hajime knew that, and he certainly had the strength to lift it, even if he couldn't use it properly quite yet. But still, the child hesitated, a reverence on his face that no talk of the Buddha could ever elicit.

"Because Hajime loves it!" the child shouted, his volume truly astounding. "And if Hajime loves it, then it's the best in the world!"

"Ah, like _you_, then, eh? Rascal! Be quiet before one of the elders hears you and puts you to running that noise out!"

_It was a rough lifestyle, but I loved it. We did our service to the people, and when we weren't meditating and training, we were fighting. Fighting and killing. Kids grow up quickly like that. But however hard it was, however many times I'd scream and rage and tell Hajime I hated him, it was the only life I knew. It was the only life I loved. I learned to handle myself in battle. By the time I was ten I could unseat a samurai with my naginata with the same ease you'd shell a pea, and I only dreamed of getting stronger, of one day getting my hands on that sword he loved so well...But then came _that _battle. We fought for days against the Kamakura. I killed for the first time on that battlefield, then I lost count. It was messy, ugly, bitter work and lasted so long that both sides retreated. It was only then that I found Hajime..._

"Hajime!" The blood-soaked, stripling child dropped his _naginata_ and fell to his knees, unmindful of the carnage around him. He'd searched and searched, hoping against hope that he _wouldn't_ find Hajime here among the bodies, that he'd go back to their monastery dejected, only to discover his father alive and well, ready to laugh at his worries.

But here Hajime lay with his guts spilling out of him and flies already crawling on his flesh.

"That one, he's the one I remember. Fetch that for me, that sword is too fine to end up in a looter's hands. Take it, and let's be done here."

Tsunomaru watched in horror as the samurai's subordinates bent to rifle Hajime's body, one of them holding the reins of the bloody horse he sat upon. His eyes widened to the point of pain when he saw them lift Hajime's pride and joy, his precious sword, and hand it to the waiting samurai, who accepted it as if it was his due.

"_Nnnnnnnnnnnooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo_!"

He didn't think about what he was doing. He didn't think about the danger or the futility of his actions - all he could see was that Hajime's precious memory was being sullied by the hands of the man who had murdered him.

So he followed his heart - that destructive bundle of instincts that his masters warned him would always lead him astray - and flung himself at that samurai regardless of those attendants. The _naginata_ in his hands moved almost of its own will, sliding to unseat the heavy, seasoned samurai despite the added weight of his armor. Tsunomaru had practice on his side, had his wiry strength, the knowledge of leverage, a strong weapon and a strong rage to fuel it all. He managed to topple the man, howling with rage at the top of his oft-lamented lungs, and slung the _naginata_ to deliver the killing blow.

Pain blossomed in his back, a blade sliding through the layers of his clothing to narrowly miss his kidney. He gasped at the force of it, adding to the distraction of previous wounds, losing his momentum for a deadly second.

"_Wait_." The samurai's voice cracked like a whip, and his subordinates seized the boy's shaking arms, struggling to hold him still.

The battle-weary warrior rose with the help of his other attendant and removed his helmet, revealing a gaunt, severe face for one who was probably only Hajime's age.

"What were you after, boy? Was this man your Master?"

Tsunomaru refused to answer; he just grit his teeth and snarled.

"_Sohei_ _monks_, heh," the samurai scoffed, shaking his head. "A brotherhood of warriors, backing politics with religion. Let me tell you something, young Brother - a monk's place is in _meditation_, not battle. Instead of fighting honorable soldiers, work wonders for peace. If you want to honor your Master so much, then learn from his mistakes and find a new path."

He raised that sword, Hajime's precious sword, and unsheathed it, looking at the struggling boy down the length of the blade.

"You are too young for this. Every time I fight you Sohei, you get younger," the samurai sighed. "If you won't find another path, young monk, if you're half the man you think you are, then come take this sword back from me."

He angled the blade at the child's stomach and leaned on it, neatly pushing the keen-edged length of it through his body to the hilt.

"I am Shimada Izo. Come and take this sword from me if you can, little monk," the samurai whispered. "But if you do, you should take my head with it, because I _will_ kill you if I see you again."

Dimly, Tsunomaru heard the shouts of his brothers, a small band of them noticing the remaining few samurai and rallying to route them. But bloodloss and trauma took its toll, and he slumped into darkness as Shimada Izo pulled Hajime's sword free, soaked in his blood and lost to him.

_They left me there, thinking I was dead. I couldn't blame them, honestly. No one could gather their dead in that time, it was too dangerous and the fighting didn't break long enough for it. By the time I got my wits back, the Sohei were hunted and scattered to the four winds, and I was alone among strange people..._

"He's waking, Master."

"Oh? Let's have a look."

"Hajime..."

Tsunomaru opened his eyes to see a young, anxious face peering down at his, so close that he could feel the excited puff of breath on his nose. An older, less open face took its place and, strangely, _smiled_ at him.

"Where's Hajime?" he demanded, his heart pounding. He sat up in a panic, feeling for his beads, his left hand reaching for his _naginata_.

"You were surrounded by your dead brethren," the older man said, reaching out to touch his stomach. The touch woke a flare of pain and he winced, recoiling. "I am not sure which among them is the name of the man you seek, if he was even there. Perhaps he was one of the lucky ones."

'_I am Shimada Izo. Come and take this sword from me if you can, little monk_...'

"Who are you?"

"Friends," the man said, insistently palpating the length of the wound on his belly. "Men about the work of kindness. We buried all we could before the crows did their work. But we are few, and the dead were too many. It is my hope that the villagers continued in charity. No man deserves to be eaten by the beasts of the forest. It is poor reward for the hard work of living, after all..."

"_Leave me alone_!" Tsunomaru flared, striking out at him.

Much to his shock, the old man blocked him easily and turned the hit aside as if he was nothing more than a nuisance.

"Here, here, now, let me be sure of this before you start moving around so much. You warriors are so rough all of the time, it's no wonder you're always getting hurt."

Tsunomaru subsided, squeezing his eyes closed to block out the vision of Hajime lying there in a pool of his own innards, his brown eyes glazed and empty, his pride reduced to so much blood in the dust.

"You'll live," he was told. "What a wondrous thing that is."

"_Wondrous_?" he echoed, his unusual grey eyes flying open. In a barely restrained roar, he demanded, "_What's so wondrous about it, _eh_?! Here I am alive when everyone I care about is _dead! What's the point of living if they're all gone?! Why should I have to be the one left behind, huh?!"

The man placidly listened, the little boy anxiously watching from the sidelines.

"Not many of us get second chances, Brother. Be sure you are grateful for it, and be sure that you walk a path that honors it."

"Ha! I know what I'm going to do, old man!" he snarled. "I'm going to find Shimada Izo and I'm going to take Hajime's sword back! And when I do, I'm going to bring that man's head back to the battlefield and piss on it so Hajime can see!"

The old man's eyebrow twitched just a little, but to his credit, all he did was mildly answer, "Impressive plans. However, you need to heal. Pass the time with us. You are no stranger to our way of life, or am I mistaken that you are _Sohei_? Your beads are by your bed."

"And my weapon?"

"Stored safely until you are well enough to use it again," he was told. "It is only time, brother. Stay among us for some of it, and find your balance again."

_So I did. They weren't monks like any that I'd ever known, or cared to know, at that. The Sohei didn't embrace the ideal of peace or tranquility, and it was hard for me to adjust. But I had nowhere to go, no one to turn to, and only the fire of revenge to fuel me. The Old Man, though, he waited me out. No matter how rude I was, no matter how loud I was, no matter how much I distracted the young ones from their meditations, he never did anything more than shrug his shoulders and praise my spirit. I couldn't help but wonder if maybe...maybe a peace like his was possible after all. _

"You can continue to stare at me with such venom, Tsunomaru," Taigen murmured, never stirring from his serene pose. "But I am incapable of vanishing entirely."

"Don't call me that." It was the only comeback he could muster these days. "Hajime named me Ikkaku and that's what I'll go by, now! I'm not a child anymore and I don't want that child's name."

But the truth was, it hurt too much to be called that name. _Ikkaku_ was the name Hajime had chosen for him, but no one had ever used it. He'd always been Tsunomaru, the boy with a voice like a knife to the eardrum.

"Your behavior describes an entirely opposite truth," the old man observed, opening one heavy lid to gaze at him. "Sit with me."

"No." He resisted, but eventually did as he was told. He was growing restless as his wounds healed, anxious for the time when he could hunt down that samurai and kill him. "There's no such thing as _harmony_. There's no such thing as _goodness_. You're weak, that's all. That man could come in here and cut you down, and what could you do, eh? Stupid."

"Tsunomaru," Taigen said, making him scowl. "What do you see behind me?"

"Eh?"

"What do you see?"

"Land," he said, reluctant to be drawn into anything the old man had to offer. "Just...land."

"It is smooth, isn't it? Calm and beautiful?"

He shrugged, sullenly looking away.

"But if you talked to a farmer, he would tell you that there are rocks beneath," Taigen said. "There are holes and crevices. There are layers to that land you see, and even though it seems inert, incapable of changing, it changes effortlessly as it needs to."

Tsunomaru scowled, feeling the understanding pierce him where his resolve had hardened his heart.

"You can change, Tsunomaru," Taigen told him. "Like the land, you can be sturdy and dependable, but you can take the pit of your revenge and fill it. You can _change_ and find peace for your spirit. Fighting isn't the only answer, Tsunomaru; and dealing death to others only brings about death to yourself."

"My Master would laugh at you," he snapped, then gaped in shocked surprise when the old man asked, "Oh? Am I laughing?"

"Y..._you're not my master_!" Tsunomaru shouted, trembling with rage.

"Be still, Tsunomaru," Taigen said, and for some reason, he was. "Sit with me for awhile."

Chastened, the boy moved to sit at his side and found himself sliding easily into the tranquil evenness of meditation. And slowly, slowly, the pit began to fill.

_It took some time, but it got the worst of the venom out of me. He never was able to tame me, but that was never the old man's intention. All he wanted for me was the same kind of peacefulness _he'd_ found. They were a small order, solitary and glad of it, happy to help the surrounding community find its feet again. I never wanted to admit that I was content there, not when it felt like such a betrayal of Hajime and my Brothers, but for awhile, I _was_. I grew fond of the old man, fond of the little brothers of his Order, proud of the changes they were able to make with their peaceful way of life. I started to find _peace_. But you know how it goes, Yumichika. Just when you think the worst has happened and you can move on, something even more terrible occurs. And the terrible thing for me was information on Shimada Izo_...

"So. You're going."

He stopped in place, straightening from his task to turn and look at the old man. His shame made him defensive, but his pride would not allow him to back away from his chosen path.

"Yeah."

"Tsunomaru," the old man said, then amended it to the name he'd but recently begun to call him, "_Ikkaku_ - if you cannot be swayed from violence, please remember the least of the things I taught you. A man can change his path. A man can change his destiny. A man can change his _heart_, and it doesn't matter what has come before, only what comes after."

He looked at that beloved old face, weathered by time and tempered by the events of a world often out of control. Yet he could still find it in his heart to make room for an ungrateful, rude boy determined to execute another man without hesitation.

"I'll remember...Master..."

Taigen smiled, but it was sad and reluctant, not victorious. "Whether you succeed or fail at your task, Ikkaku, remember us. We'll be here, and we'll expect you."

He held out his prayer beads, worn from much use, with the small plaque unique to their monastery dangling from one end.

"Take these with you," he said, urging Ikkaku to take them. "Meditate on what you are about to do and if it will lead you to enlightenment."

Ikkaku took the beads, exchanging his own for his Master's. "I know it won't, old man. But I have to do this for Hajime."

"Hajime," Taigen said, considering what Ikkaku had finally shared with him only weeks before. "He sounds as if he was a good father to you, Ikkaku. But what father would wish death on his son? Ask yourself as you meditate, Ikkaku, if you truly do this for Hajime, or if you do this to satisfy the anguish in your heart."

He took a deep breath, already knowing the truth. "Master, Hajime taught me of war, and you've taught me of peace. All I can say is that your path has never kept a man from running someone through. I will always be grateful for your help, old man, but the only thing peace gets you is _dead_."

"And war does not?"

Ikkaku flinched, then covered it by catching up his _naginata_ instead of the monks' usual pole-spade.

"Goodbye, Master."

"I will pray that you find your way, and that the lesson in this leads you to enlightenment, Tsunomaru..." the Old Man said, watching him walk out into the night.

_If anyone ever tells you it's easy to get into a samurai's house, don't you believe them, Yumichika. And I wasn't in a good frame of mind to be doing it anyway, not with my heart so heavy. I'd killed men, I'd seen my father lying dead in a field of bodies, and I'd tasted hatred to its bitter depths. But then I'd been healed by a man whose compassion had the power to change people's hearts...and it had changed mine. Even as I took the measure of that samurai's house over the course of days, even as I sneaked in there under the cover of darkness, I doubted my own resolve. The part of me that knew hatred, the part of me that was left in a ditch and saved by the Sohei - _that_ part wanted Shimada Izo's head. The Sohei didn't leave their enemies unpunished. The Sohei didn't tolerate stains on their honor or desecration of their comrades' memories. _

_But the part of me the Old Man had lifted out of such darkness wanted only to quietly take back that sword, and gamble on forgetting if forgiveness was out of my ability..._

The youth trembled slightly as he gazed down at the face of Shimada Izo, slack with sleep and confident in the ability of his men to keep his household safe.

'_A man can change his destiny. A man can change his heart_...'

His strong young hand lifted to the handle of his dagger and gripped it, his knuckles turning white with the force.

'_Like the land, you can be sturdy and dependable, but you can take the pit of your revenge and fill it..._'

Hajime's beloved, sun-browned face swam up before his eyes, sporting its usual careless smile. For an ascetic, Hajime had always been eager to laugh and full of spirit, and he'd imparted that manner on his adopted son...Before tragedy had stolen all everything that had given his life have meaning.

'_Whether you succeed or fail at your task, Ikkaku, remember us. We'll be here, and we'll expect you_...'

No...not _everything_. He had a new family, now. He had people who cared for him, people he cared for without meaning to or even wanting to. But the end result was the same - he _did_ have meaning, and there were people who welcomed him. He could stop here, stop before he had another death on his hands, and simply let it go.

'_Forgive me, Hajime_,' he prayed, but there was nothing to forgive and he knew it. Hajime had lived his life as a battle-monk and had been ready to die when it was time. Never once had he implied that Tsunomaru should seek vengeance on his behalf, no...

Quietly, he backed out the way he'd come and strode silently back to the joint of the hall where Hajime's sword was displayed on a polished wooden rack. He ran his fingers down the sheath, noting that it didn't have a speck of dust on it, and then he plucked it free to slide it through his sash.

_I left that place before they could figure out where I was and I headed out. I didn't go back to the monastery. My pride made it too difficult to admit that I had taken the Old Man's teachings to heart, but I knew I'd go back one day. I just wanted to roam for awhile, perhaps find work as a mercenary, or just become a peasant somewhere and forget that I'd ever known anything about war or peace. But I didn't get more than a day away from there when I realized I'd done something that I shouldn't have. _

_I'd lost the Old Man's prayer beads somewhere at that samurai's house. I'd given that man something he could identify, something he would _know_, and he would strike back without mercy. And I knew then that I should have listened to my Master and stayed away, because I went where I shouldn't have, and we all would pay the price..._

He ran even though it was useless, even though there wasn't a way to beat men on horseback. Still, he pushed himself as hard as he could to reach them, to warn them, even if they would simply shake their heads and announce that it was all a part of life. They would let those men come, and any resistance would be token in the face of a slaughter.

So he ran, cursing his own foolish heart, cursing his own uncertain spirit, desperate to reach the people he loved before he lost them all over again.

But it was burning.

They'd torched the modest monastery, the flames lighting up the night, illuminating bodies strewn in graceless piles, their last moments of bewildered shock etched on their faces. Even the children had been murdered, flung like garbage, one across the other.

"No! _No_!"

Ikkaku flung himself through the courtyard, staring around in horror, his head turning sharply when he heard the Old Man placidly say, "I will not tell you something that I do not know. If the young man came to your house and took something, I can only assume that he either needed it more than you, or it was his to begin with. Surely a powerful man like you can find another sword?"

Ikkaku shot towards him, finding the Old Man standing among hostile men bristling with weapons as if they'd expected to confront an army instead of a group of peaceful monks. Blood coursed down his face from a deep wound in his forehead and sprayed a pattern across his modest robes. His old, wizened eyes met Ikkaku's, evincing no surprise that the boy had returned.

"_Leave him alone_!" Ikkaku shouted, the sheer volume of his voice startling them. "He had no part in this!"

"Sheltering a thief? Raising a rebel faction? That alone is grounds enough to execute him and his entire Order." Shimada Izo turned from the Old Man, his helmet under his arm, his face empty of everything but weary resignation. "I gave you an opportunity to change your life, young Brother. I gave you a second chance to live, and _this_ is how you choose to spend it? But my question to you is, why didn't you kill me, hm?"

Ikkaku trembled, his fists clenching. He wouldn't leave here alive and he knew it. None of them would but for Shimada's men.

"Letting you live with those lives on your conscience is a better punishment than putting you out of your misery!" Ikkaku snarled.

Shimada's eyes widened a little, and then he laughed lowly, shaking his head. "How many of your Masters will I have to kill, boy?"

He turned in one lithe movement and dealt the Old Man a blow that opened him down the front.

"_No_!" He rushed to catch the Old Man as he fell, feeling the frailty of his bones, the papery quality of his skin, the sheer age and venerable knowledge of him destroyed like a priceless scroll in flames. "Master! Master...please, forgive me..."

"You cannot walk two paths, young Brother," Shimada said, watching him with those strange, weary eyes. "You cannot be a man of peace who sometimes is a man of war. You cannot seek enlightenment while stealing a man's sword. So you choose now, and let's end this."

Blood scorched his hands, his skin, clear down to his soul, and all of the crevices he'd thought filled in became rivers of rage bearing blood.

"Forgive me, Master," he whispered again, easing the Old Man's dying body onto the ground with reverence. He turned and looked at Shimada Izo, his grey eyes stoic and hard. Slowly, he stood and said, "Because men of peace have no way to protect themselves, then I will be a man of war."

Shimada smiled, but it wasn't pleasant. It was a jaded, hateful smile worn by the grindstone of war and fighting. He snatched a _yari _from one of his men, and plunged it through the boy's gut, staggering him.

"Is this the revenge you envisioned?" Shimada asked, still holding the end of the _yari_, giving it a shove that pushed it another foot through his middle. "A man of war will always belong to death. Were you willing to die in order to get to me, boy?"

Ikkaku grasped the shaft of the _yari_ with shaking hands and pulled hard, dragging the startled man closer. With the last of his strength, with the speed his father had trained him in, with the stillness of heart the Old Man had gifted him with, he snatched Hajime's sword free of its sheath and swung it around so quickly that none of the men could stop him in time.

As Shimada Izo's throat opened in a geyser of blood, Ikkaku softly said, "_Yes_."

_They tried to save him, but I knew how to deal a man his death. I lay there in the mud next to the Old Man's body, Hajime's sword still clenched in my hand, that yari still through me. I could feel the blood pumping out with every beat of my heart, but as I lay there, I could have sworn I heard Hajime calling me a fool. I could have sworn I heard him weep for me, saying it was too soon. And then I saw the Old Man, even though I knew his body was next to me. Yet there he was, crouching over me with Hajime, both of them with one hand on my body, and one hand on that sword._

"I died then, tearing free of my body. I don't know how long it took for me to wind up in Rukongai, but when I did, I had Hajime's sword in my hand," Ikkaku softly said. "I think they sent it with me in order to remind me of what I'd done. So many lives lost because of me, and I can never forget it."

Yumichika took a deep, shaky breath, his mind spinning with the tale that Ikkaku had told him. No wonder he courted death like a long-lost lover. No wonder he fought with such ferocity and lived with such passion. He'd been raised in a tradition drenched with blood, and had spent too little time with men of peace to find any for himself. Yet he'd helped a misplaced boy all the same, and changed the course of his life all over again.

"Ikkaku," he murmured, leaning up to look down at his closed, blank face. "Have you never considered that they sent the sword with you because it holds pieces of their spirits? Pieces of their love for you? Maybe it isn't a symbol of your guilt, but a means for them to help protect you here. Don't you think it's possible?"

"Nah," Ikkaku purred, his eyes opening a fraction. "It may have dried and worn off a long time ago, Yumichika, but I'm a man with a blood-drenched soul, rotten to the depths. The only peace I can find is in forgetting. So I forget by drinking, by fighting, by using a woman's body for awhile, but none of it lasts. The only way to escape it is to die..."

"Well," Yumichika breathed, a note of haughty offense in his soft voice. "I won't let you, Madarame Ikkaku. You said you'd take care of me, and I'll hold you to it."

Ikkaku smiled, but it was weary and lacked his usual ornery glee. "You're selfish, Yumichika. You're _selfish_, I said. But now at least you know how important it is to me."

"I do," Yumichika said, affecting a careless tone. "But I'm far too much a brat to care, Ikkaku. I'll keep you selfishly right here, for as long as I need you."

Ikkaku's grin returned, this time with all of its familiar sharpness, pleased by Yumichika's demands.

"Ikkaku?"

"Eh?"

"It truly was a terrible story," Yumichika told him. "I wish it had been different for you."

"Me, too, brat. Me, too, I said. Now, go to sleep, Yumichika, eh? Waking me up for nothing..."

Yumichika settled back down at his side and curled against him, holding fast and fighting the silent, encompassing fear that Ikkaku was right.

The only peace his precious friend would ever find would come at the hands of Death, and not at his own.


	13. Chapter 13

If it hadn't been for the decidedly female, scandalized gasps and giggles rousing him from his comfortable slumber, Yumichika would've happily slept for another few hours.

Instead, he tried to get up and scold them away, an effort rendered even more laughable by his inability to shift Ikkaku off of himself. In fact, they watched helplessly, more amused than horrified, shocked out of their usual routines by the strange sight before them.

"Get _up_, you fool!" he hissed, wriggling out from under one heavy, corded arm. Ikkaku responded by sourly yelling at them, "_Quit with all that racket, already! Can't a man _sleep?!"

"Honestly!" Yumichika dragged his discarded kimono around his shoulders and gave the female servants a steady, icy glare in an attempt to find his dignity. "Ladies, please. Go on about your business and let our guest sleep. As you can see, mornings don't agree with him."

There was a round of bows, all made with stifled laughter, and the girls quickly cleared out, no doubt eager to share the news that they'd discovered the Prince in bed with the man who'd bought him so many years ago. What kind of frightening tale they'd manage out of _this_ fodder boggled the mind, but there was no help for it now.

"Idiot," Yumichika softly sighed, unable to regret it. He cautiously stroked the back of Ikkaku's bald head, winning nothing more than a sleepy grunt and something that might've been a content purr. He recalled the tale that Ikkaku had told him last night, his heart aching at the burden of guilt the other man carried. But it _would_ be carried by Ikkaku, wouldn't it? This was a man who couldn't neglect someone in trouble, who'd taken responsibility for a vain, prickly, misplaced noble who didn't have a clue what the world really was. Yet that same compassion had kept him from killing Shimada Izo when he'd had a chance to do so in secret, and had led to the slaughter of his entire Order.

Yes, if there was anyone in the world who would feel it necessary to carry such a burden of guilt, it was Madarame Ikkaku...

He composed himself before he left Ikkaku's room, and tried his best to appear as if he had every right to be there by adopting the haughtiest demeanor he was capable of.

"Master Kanesuke."

He steeled himself mentally and breezed past the household's Head Servant, saying, "Yes?"

"Master, I do apologize if the sleeping arrangements were unsatisfactory," he hastened to say, genteelly referencing the situation the serving girls had no doubt told him of on their way out. "I can have your guest's personal effects moved immediately! I wrongly assumed upon your return that you would wish your old suite back, but I can only claim ignorance regarding the status of our guest!"

"Isamu," Yumichika told him. "The arrangements are fine and may stand as they are. I went to check on Madarame and fell asleep there on accident. There's no cause to make an issue of it."

"No, Master," Isamu said, bowing low, his horror at his imagined mistake all too genuine. "It is our wish that you feel at home here once more, Master Kanesuke, and we are ashamed that we do not know you anymore. Please, if it would be more appropriate, allow me to change the arrangements."

Yumichika stopped and turned to look at him, noting with quickly-hidden surprise that the horror was directed at Isamu's own failure to properly read a situation, and not at his own actions. He took a deep breath and reached out to lay his hand on the man's shoulder, telling him, "Isamu, please, there was no offense given, and no mistake made. Ikkaku is dear to me, and I wish for him to have the respect due a man of his importance. Leave him in his own rooms; it's a novelty for him and no hardship to either of us."

"Thank you, Master!" Isamu said, relieved, bowing again. "And Master Kenji has asked after you. I thought you should know."

"Thank you," Yumichika murmured, and hurried to his rooms to quickly change. Much to his surprise, two of those giggling serving girls were perfectly willing to help him dress, an indulgence he hadn't tasted since he'd last been in this house. They had him set to rights in no time, and on his way to find his Elder Brother.

"Ah! Kanesuke! Come in, come in!" Elder Brother granted him permission to join him in his library, though Kenji was doing nothing more than sitting, looking out at the beautiful little private garden. "Have you ever seen this place?"

"No, I haven't," Yumichika said, settling next to him and arranging his clothing around him in a pretty spread of fine fabric. "Father never allowed me to come in here."

"Ah, well, everyone has run of the place now," Kenji said, laughing softly. "And this is too beautiful to be kept a secret."

Yumichika nodded, wondering if Kenji had heard of his inappropriate conduct from Isamu. Figuring that there was very little that escaped _anyone's_ notice in this House, Yumichika decided to take the initiative and softly said, "Forgive me, Brother, if I caused a scandal among the servants."

"Scandal? How so?" Kenji asked, a twinkle of merriment in his blue eyes.

"By startling the servants in Madarame's room," Yumichika said, managing not to blush. "I slept there last night and they woke me this morning. I'm afraid it was a scene."

"Ah. _That_," Kenji said, and sighed a little, shaking his head. "Kanesuke, do you remember when our father was going to make you marry that pitiful little Kusunoki princess? I objected because, as the youngest son, you had no reason to marry or raise heirs...and I knew you found her particularly distasteful."

Yumichika's startled gaze turned to him, his embarrassment forgotten.

"Kanesuke, there are no expectations of you in regards to marriage or children," Kenji said, his voice firming with authority. "You've done as all sons of the Ichigawa family and have gone to serve Soul Society, so I find no reason to fault your conduct. If you choose to practice _nanshoku_, then it is only in keeping with proper and accepted military standards. _Warriors_ have no room for wives, and bonds forged in battle can often exceed those formed in wedlock."

He turned those wise, kind blue eyes on Yumichika and smiled at him, saying, "I suppose, Kanesuke, that I can't say I am unhappy with your choice. If there was any man I'd accept as an unspoken member of this family, it is the man who went to such lengths to protect you."

Yumichika looked away, ashamed for some reason. Perhaps he was ashamed of himself for keeping his feelings so well hidden from Ikkaku, but so obvious to everyone else. Perhaps he was ashamed that he lacked the bravery to admit the source of his feelings. All he knew was that he could not live happily without Ikkaku, and would do whatever he had to do in order to keep the man close to him.

"It...it isn't like that, Elder Brother," he whispered, his violet eyes resting on the rippling pond in the garden because he couldn't bear to meet Kenji's understanding with his shame. "Ikkaku...he would never consider such a thing."

"Oh? Well, that is a shame, then, Kanesuke," Elder Brother sighed. "Because that means you're living with your heart in a box, and that's no proper place for such a treasure."

Yumichika thought of what Ikkaku had told him last night, picking the condensed story for details he may have missed. The story, though, had merely explained the nature of his current desire to forget; it hadn't given Yumichika any details about his day to day life, or if he'd been involved in a relationship encouraged in close warrior societies. Perhaps such an attachment was so routine to Ikkaku that it was nothing to be remarked upon, and _that_ was why he never reacted strangely to Yumichika invading his space and even his clothing...

"Kanesuke?" Elder Brother inquired, a note of concern in his voice. "Are you well?"

"Yes, Elder Brother," he said, a little breathless by the realization. Because if Ikkaku didn't mind it, then it was possible for Yumichika to be someone special to him! "Excuse me, please, I have something to say to Ikkaku!"

"Yes, of course," Kenji said, dismissing him with ease. "I'll be busy with disputes today, but I'll share a meal with you tomorrow before you leave. Please, Kanesuke, feel at ease here and enjoy your time with our family."

"Thank you, Elder Brother," Yumichika said, bowing low before quitting the room. He slid the screen closed, paused for a moment to be sure he wasn't being observed, and then picked up his robes and _ran_.

'_I'll just tell him_!' He thought, his heart pounding as he ran, his _tabi_ turning his footfalls into a soft, muted rhythm on the floor. '_I'll just blurt it out, even if such a thing is ugly, and maybe he will just smile like he does and tell me it's what he wants, too_!'

"Ikkaku!" He slid the door of his room open and stopped in horrified shock, his eyes slamming closed to reject what he was seeing.

"_Hey! Get lost, whoever you are_!"

"I...I..." He couldn't even sputter anything out, he was so shocked and taken aback. He opened his eyes to see Ikkaku in his bed with one of the serving girls. He looked fierce enough to bite, irritated at the interruption, his considerable temper no doubt stirred by an unexpected intrusion.

Before Yumichika could fully respond, the glare dropped along with the tension in Ikkaku's lean body.

"Ah, Yumichika, it's you," he said, calming, sliding one arm down to hold whomever he had there beneath him. "Make sure no one comes in, will you?"

"How rude," Yumichika said, recovering somewhat. "What a vulgar thing to do, Ikkaku. Why should I help you?"

"Why shouldn't you?" Ikkaku countered.

The girl uttered a nervous giggle, no doubt worried that she would be scolded for her conduct. Yumichika was glad that he couldn't see her face, because if he could identify her, he wasn't sure that he keep from doing her terrible harm. Instead, he forced himself to look at the pair of them entwined there on that bed, and swallowed the bitter pill of understanding. "Come in or go out, Yumichika! _Pick one_, I said!"

"I'm leaving," Yumichika said, taking all of his intentions and shoving them down into the new crack in his heart. "Get caught or don't, it's all the same to me."

"Fine, _go_ then," Ikkaku called after him, turning his attention back to the woman in his bed. "Shut the door behind you."

Numb with the sudden emptiness of his heart, Yumichika slowly closed the door.

"Master Kanesuke?"

How could he have been so stupid to forget something like this? Of all the people who should know Ikkaku's tastes by now, _Yumichika_ should know best. How ugly and ignorant he'd been in coming to confess his feelings to Ikkaku, when all that infuriating man wanted was quick pleasure and a faster death.

"Master?"

He should have gone and begged the earth to swallow him up. That, surely, would have had a better chance of success than _this_ ill-thought plan.

"Master Kanesuke?" Isamu insisted. When Yumichika was able to look at him, he saw anxiety and concern on his worried face. "Will you come to the gardens and break your fast?"

Yumichika opened his mouth to answer, then paused to feel the unmistakable sensation of the Azure Peacock gloating, once more proven right in his dire predictions.

"Master, _please_ come away," Isamu gently urged, wanting nothing more than to remove a precious member of the Ichigawa family from a situation that was causing him distress. "Please, Master. I'll have her dismissed. This type of behavior - "

"No," Yumichika said, taking a deep breath. "No, don't dismiss her. Ikkaku has found someone who pleases him here, and I have sworn to ensure that he is denied nothing he desires."

"Master," Isamu quietly said, bowing his head in resignation, no doubt recalling that Yumichika had a Master of his own to serve, since they all had been present the day he was sold. "Please...come away..."

"Yes, Isamu," Yumichika said, wondering if Tamotsu would gloat like the Azure Peacock to see Yumichika waver in his vows. But perhaps it _was_ insanity to devote himself to a man like Madarame Ikkaku after all. A special kind of insanity that others called _love_.

"I will come away..."

* * *

Yumichika watched the pretty scenery go by without really seeing it, too absorbed in his own dark thoughts to realize that Ikkaku was watching him with an expression of mingled suspicion and bewilderment that threatened any moment to spill over into anger. Elder Brother had insisted on ordering a palanquin for them, a luxury that greatly sped up their journey but left Ikkaku with too much time on his hands.

"Hey, Yumichika," Ikkaku finally said, his low, raspy voice restrained for a change. "Why are you sulking, eh?"

"I'm not sulking, idiot," Yumichika told him, though he very nearly was.

"Hmph..." After a short, tense silence, Ikkaku flared, "_Why are you sulking, I said, Yumichika_! Look here at me!"

Yumichika did so, his mask firmly in place. Everyone thought him so cold, so haughty, so unapproachable, but they had no idea what lay in wait beneath or how hard he had to work to maintain such a snobbish facade. Yet just the sight of Ikkaku's beloved, handsome face threatened to break the locks on his emotions, even when the man was scowling and angry.

"_Heh_?! What's with that look? You _are_ upset, Yumichika," Ikkaku accused him, glaring as if personally offended by even the idea of it. "Are you pissed over that serving girl? She _said_ you would be pissed but I told her she was crazy, because there was no way you'd be jealous."

Yumichika gaped at him, unable to believe what he was hearing.

Ikkaku angled his head away and crossed his arms over his chest before stubbornly saying, "I know I'm not wrong, eh? There's no way you'd be jealous over a girl like that, right, Yumichika?"

His grey eyes cut to one side, assessing Yumichika's reaction, a flash of uncertainty marring his otherwise perfectly justified posture when he saw the strange, indecipherable look on Yumichika's beautiful face.

"You said yourself you could never do anything like that with a girl even as pretty as her, remember? Not with anyone not as beautiful as _you_, you said, so you can't tell me I'm wrong... Er...right?" he finally asked, abandoning the pretense of being angry to give Yumichika a long, searching look. "Yumichika, if you had your eye on her, I'm sorry. All you had to do was say - "

"_Stupid_," Yumichika breathed, wondering how on earth the two of them could continue to have two completely different conversations at the same time and still manage not to meet in the middle just _once_. "_Stupid Ikkaku_!"

Ikkaku drew back a little, at a loss, expecting Yumichika to fall into one of his extremely rare, genuine tempers, all the more dangerous for being so quiet.

"_Stupid Ikkaku_!" Yumichika said again, and turned away to the scenery once he'd kicked Ikkaku in the shin to alleviate part of his anger. "Don't be so vulgar! I want nothing to do with that woman! I want nothing to do with this conversation! If you say one more word, I'll get out here and walk the rest of the way!"

There was utter silence from Ikkaku, and then, cautiously, "Sorry, Yumichika. I won't say anything else. But if I did, it wouldn't do you any good to get out. You know I'd come with you."

"Why would you?" Yumichika asked, smoothing his hair to calm his temper.

"Stupid _Yumichika_," Ikkaku said, returning the favor. The harshness of it, however, was belied by the soft warmth of his tone and the fondness in his voice when he said Yumichika's name. "Like you'd go anywhere without me, eh? Like I'd let you go by yourself! What kind of friend would I be to do _that_, _eh_?!"

"Ikkaku..." Yumichika couldn't resist looking back at him, wishing just the sight of those dark grey eyes wouldn't melt all of his intentions. But his restless mind wouldn't let him forget the sight of small, feminine hands spread over his back; his restless mind would _never_ let him forget the image of Ikkaku entwined with that woman. She'd had all of Ikkaku's ferocity focused for her sake, what heady stuff that must have been. What a powerful sensation, to be there with the soft bed at her back and that hard body at her front while temper and heated blood protected her...

"Eh? Why's your face pink now?" Ikkaku asked, still a little wary considering that Yumichika hadn't truly gotten angry yet. "Don't be mad, Yumichika. Don't be mad, I said. I don't know what upset you so much, but whatever it was, I'll try not to let it happen again, eh? It pisses me off when something upsets you. Didn't I tell you I'd take care of you?"

When Yumichika didn't immediately call him an idiot, it bolstered him once more to start bragging, "You got to see your family again, didn't you? You got to go say a prayer for your dad after all this time, and got to take a break from the Academy, eh?! I'd say I did a pretty good job, wouldn't you?"

"Idiot," Yumichika said, but his rueful smile was all the encouragement Ikkaku needed to know he was forgiven his mysterious transgression.

"See?" Ikkaku gloated, grinning, his good humor restored. All was right with his world when Yumichika was content, after all. "You can't stay mad at me, eh, Yumichika? Because you _shouldn't_, brat! After all we've been through together and you want to walk home without me, _HAH_! What a thing to say! Damned brat!"

"Ikkaku?" Yumichika said, getting his attention.

"Eh?"

"Will you fix these for me?" Yumichika asked, holding out one dainty hand with his fingers spread.

"_Heh_?! _Yumichika_!" Ikkaku shouted, snatching the slender man's hand up in his own strong and capable ones to inspect the damage. "How many times do I have to hit you before you quit chewing your thumb? _Eh_?! Look at what you did, damn it! I promise you, Yumichika, if I catch you chewing your thumbnails again I'll _pound _you! Got it?"

"I got it, Ikkaku," Yumichika mildly told him, and just the touch of those calloused hands on his own was enough to soothe his aching, angry heart.

"You've been acting so strange lately, Yumichika," Ikkaku said, peering down at the other's nails as if the secret might be somewhere in one ragged edge. "Prickly as can be and turning your nose up for no reason. What made you think I'd lost your braid, eh?"

"Lost...ah." He'd forgotten that, forgotten that Ikkaku had explained what had happened as Yumichika searching for the braid. Of course, in Ikkaku-logic, if Yumichika wasn't reaching into his clothes for lascivious reasons, then the only other explanation was that there was something in there he wanted to check on - resulting in the assumption about the braid.

"I keep it, stupid. I _keep_ it, I said," Ikkaku reminded him, and let go of Yumichika's hand to settle back, his arms folded behind his head and his legs spread wide, master of all he surveyed. "But I don't need such a thing, Yumichika, do I?"

Yumichika's heart sank a little. In a small, neutral voice, he said, "Oh?"

"Nope," Ikkaku told him, slitting his grey eyes to grace Yumichika with a smug look. "Why would I need your braid for a lucky charm when I have _you_, eh? You've always been lucky for me, Yumichika, ever since the day I met you. As long as I have you with me, I'm the luckiest man in the world!"

"Stupid Ikkaku," he breathed, but his pleased preening only made Ikkaku's grin widen, and everything was as it should be between them.

* * *

"I knew you could do it, Ikkaku," Yumichika said, offering a serene smile as the bald man dropped down next to him, relief overriding his usual expression of irritation. "Not even Kido could get in your way."

"I'm just glad I don't have to do anymore," Ikkaku growled, closing his eyes and leaning against the wall, not in the least bit interested in seeing the others take their final test. "At least _you_ were here, Yumichika - there's no way I'd pass otherwise. What a stupid thing to have to learn! Ha! "

Yumichika frowned inwardly and turned his attention back to the rest of their class. The instructors had taken them in groups to hasten the process, and Yumichika had been told to come in case they needed another to stand in the place of an instructor. His Advanced placement and accomplishments in Kido had already earned him a pass for the art and exempted him from a test of his own, but he hadn't let the information leak. Tamotsu was there in the same capacity, coaching those who wished to practice before the final test.

"That man, he irritates me," Ikkaku said, opening one lazy lid to glare in Tamotsu's direction. "Does he still bother you?"

"It's none of your business," Yumichika told him, pleased when Ikkaku scowled. Oh, the years of Academy had truly been a treat, and his education had not been restricted only to the arts of a Death God, no. His education in the facets of Madarame Ikkaku had certainly been honed to a fine edge here, as had his ability to cover nearly everything he felt or thought in narcissistic snobbery.

"_You're_ my business, Yumichika," Ikkaku reminded him, closing his eyes again. Ikkaku had always held his vow to take care of Yumichika at the top of his priorities, and had viciously retaliated against anyone who so much as ruffled Yumichika's feathers. "Ah, I have something to show you after this."

Yumichika didn't respond, his attention on his classmates as they tested.

"Ayasegawa," the instructor called.

"Eh? What's he want?" Ikkaku sleepily inquired.

"Nothing, Ikkaku, go back to sleep," Yumichika murmured, standing and straightening his clothes with a show of distaste. He moved gracefully over to the testing grounds and gave a short, pretty bow to the instructor.

"We're running a little behind," the instructor said, looking fairly harried. No few of the students had little capacity for Kido, and one had scorched both himself and the instructor with a spell gone awry. "Take over here, will you? Split the line in the middle! You back half, come this way with me!"

"Well, I see we've fallen to a new low, whenever whores are allowed to judge _nobles_."

Yumichika turned his narrowed eyes on the line and saw Sachiko near the end, her arms crossed under her formidable bosom and a mutinous expression on her pretty face. Really, he never could understand why Ikkaku chased the women he did, not when they all seemed so pitiably _common_. But perhaps Ikkaku didn't care that they weren't as beautiful as Yumichika, only that they were willing to spread their legs for him...

"Sachiko, I see your conversations are as dull and repetitive as ever," Yumichika lightly said, taking the first in his line. "Please, before you reach the head of the line, find something new to talk about. I don't want to have to start myself, or else I may remind everyone of what Ikkaku called _you_..."

She fumed at him, her face scarlet, but wisely didn't say anything more.

It was nominally interesting work, putting his classmates through their Kido paces. There were some exceptional ones who were able to reach quite high in numbers, though none of them were at the Advanced level. Still, he didn't feel that any one of them would fail miserably if they were forced to use Kido in a battle.

And then came _Sachiko_.

He could tell from the moment they started that she was determined to do him some measure of harm. She said nothing to him, but her mouth was pressed into a thin line of distaste and she repeatedly ignored his comments on her work, especially when her aim seemed to include _Yumichika_.

"You're not terrible, Sachiko," he told her, meaning it. "But you lack concentration. Focus and try again."

"_How can I focus when someone I hate is grading me_?" she flared, turning her enraged eyes on his.

Yumichika was taken aback by the aggression he saw there. Truly, he had no idea that she had such strong feelings for him. He'd thought it a petty rivalry, easily dismissed by the years and unimportant in the future.

"What an ugly thing to say," he told her, retreating behind his cold mask. "Why on earth would you hate _me_? It isn't my fault I'm more beautiful than you..."

She laughed, the sound scoffing and harsh. "_Beautiful_? I don't hate you for something so _false_, Ayasegawa! I hate you because he won't go without you! I hate you because _you're so important to him, and you won't let anyone else be_!"

Yumichika glanced around, alarmed by her volume, and hissed at her, "Keep your voice down, idiot, or the world will hear you - "

"_I don't care if they do_!" she snarled, and fired a Kido at him. It was messy and ill-aimed, hardly anything at all due to the fact that she hadn't recited the incantation and lacked the power to make it substantial.

"_Sachiko_!" he said, easily deflecting it, alarmed by her ire. "Get ahold of yourself! This isn't the time or the place!"

"Do you have any idea how badly you embarrassed me?" she asked, firing another easily-broken Kido.

"Not nearly as badly as you're embarrassing _yourself_," Yumichika informed her, his own ire rising in the face of her repeated attacks.

"_Mask of blood and flesh_," Sachiko began, her eyes narrowed down to slits.

"Oh, don't you _dare_!" Yumichika warned her, outraged that she would even try.

"_He who reigns over all creation_ - "

Yumichika calmed himself, lifted his hands, and sharply said, "_Restrain_!"

Sachiko gaped at him in shock as her arms were twisted behind her back, effectively cutting off her Kido.

"Perhaps, Sachiko, you should master the lower numbers before you try one in the thirties," Yumichika coolly told her, a small part of him enjoying her frustrated rage. "After all, Bakudo One is sometimes the most useful of them all."

"Ayasegawa! Akamatsu! What on earth is going on here?!"

The instructor hastened over, a wisp of smoke rising from the back of his head, no doubt from a misfired spell due to the distraction they'd provided.

"A difference of opinion," Yumichika told him, releasing the Bakudo without being told. "Akamatsu Sachiko is not able to use Kido effectively under pressure. I recommend remedial training before she is allowed to graduate."

The teacher looked from Yumichika to Sachiko, horrified that such outrageous actions had been taken during their testing.

"Akamatsu! _Explain yourself immediately_!" he demanded. "Why on earth were you attacking Ayasegawa? You could have done him harm!"

"On the contrary," Yumichika said, allowing himself a small smirk. "I was in no danger at all. I believe, teacher, if you test her yourself, you'll find that she isn't capable in the least."

He reached up and patted the back of the man's head, extinguishing the tiny lick of flame still guttering in his hair.

"Ayasegawa, you may go," the teacher said, the initial shock of it wearing off. "At least no harm was done, thanks to you taking control of the situation. Akamatsu, we'll discuss your conduct as soon as I am finished. For now, I want you to consider what has happened, and try to formulate a reasonable explanation that _won't_ force me to report this incident."

Sachiko panted with the force of her anger, but with reality setting in so fast, she didn't have much time to spare for rage. Her angry eyes flicked to Yumichika, and he smirked at her, flipping his hair a little before smoothing it. Trying not to reek of triumph, he turned and walked away, doing his best to look graceful and beautiful as he did so.

"Yumichika! What on earth was _that_ about?" Tamotsu hurried to his side, his eyes wide behind his glasses. "Are you okay? What's wrong with that woman?!"

"_Madarame Ikkaku_," Yumichika said by way of explanation. "He has a knack for finding the most unstable of females..."

Tamotsu laughed slightly, and said with a nod at Ikkaku, "Well, I guess that right there explains why he doesn't mind them being crazy."

Yumichika smiled wearily, seeing Ikkaku snoring lightly against the wall where he'd left him.

"Looks like he can sleep through anything," Tamotsu said, shaking his head. "It's a good thing she didn't go after _him_ instead of you."

"Ah, well, I'd have stopped her either way," Yumichika said, still preening.

"Oh! I'd better go help the instructor! Excuse me, Yumichika," Tamotsu said, hastening away. "Hey, don't forget to find me during the exercise, okay? It'll be our last chance to work Kido together before we graduate!"

Yumichika nodded a little, but he didn't have the heart to tell Tamotsu that he'd declined their instructor's invitation to be part of the Kido portion of barrier control and battlefield support. He had every intention of being at Ikkaku's side during their exercise, not somewhere far from him where he couldn't assist directly.

He returned to Ikkaku's side and bent over him, gently shaking the man awake.

"Hey, wake up, Ikkaku," he murmured. "It's mostly over, so we can go."

"Eh? Ah, Yumichika," Ikkaku said, and sat up to stretch, yawning, his long spine popping. "Time to go?"

"Yes. What were you going to show me?" Yumichika asked, curious.

"Ah, that. Come on, let's go where there isn't anyone else," Ikkaku said, which told Yumichika that this must be in regards to his Soul Cutter. Ikkaku was oddly protective of his sword's abilities, and unwilling to reveal them to just anyone.

The pair of them threaded their way through the grounds to a fairly secluded grove where Ikkaku stopped and told him, "Draw your weapon."

Yumichika drew Ruri'iro Kujaku without question, on guard as Ikkaku drew Hozukimaru.

"_Grow_," Ikkaku said, slamming the hilt into the scabbard. "_Hozukimaru_!"

The familiar _naginata_ formed and Ikkaku lunged at him, Yumichika parrying with well-honed skill. He blocked a strike, knowing how to elude Ikkaku's extended reach, but he was utterly taken aback whenever Ikkaku shouted, "_Split_!"

The _naginata_ came apart and wrapped around Ruri'iro Kujaku, becoming a three-sectioned staff at Ikkaku's command.

With a raspy, gleeful laugh, Ikkaku gave Hozukimaru a yank and pulled the Azure Peacock out of Yumichika's shocked hands.

"See?" Ikkaku gloated, flipping the spear up so that the three pieces rejoined. He caught Yumichika's sword and flipped it, offering it back by the hilt, his _naginata _resting on his shoulder. "Pretty amazing, isn't it?"

"How long have you been able to do that?" Yumichika asked, shocked. He took his sword back and sheathed it, waiting on Ikkaku's answer.

"About three years," Ikkaku told him, hastening to say, "I didn't want to show you until I could use it properly! No one else knows, yet. I wanted you to know, though, so it wouldn't surprise you when you see it."

"It's truly amazing," Yumichika told him, thinking of what an advantage it would be to Ikkaku in battle. Being able to surprise one's enemies was important, but he could see how such a weapon would require intensive training to master - three separate pieces, and one of them tipped with a deadly edge, would require coordination above and beyond usual swordplay.

"Train with me, Yumichika," Ikkaku said, grinning. "I need to practice against a real opponent, and maybe if you work more with that sword of yours, you'll finally learn his release, eh?"

Yumichika blushed, as he always did when Ikkaku mentioned his infuriating sword. He simply couldn't bring himself to speak of Ruri'iro Kujaku, and avoided all talk of _shikai_ if possible. He knew in his bones that the Azure Peacock was a Kido-type sword, and that his temperamental nature was only exacerbated by Yumichika's refusal to learn from him. He was afraid that if he finally _did _allow Ruri'iro Kujaku to show his true colors, he'd make sure that the world knew of him. It was simply too dangerous to consider, even if the spirit was growing stronger by the day and threatening to revolt.

"Well, I suppose there's no helping it," Yumichika said, his eyes sparkling with joy as they always did when he had Ikkaku's devoted, undivided attention. "Let's spar, Madarame."

* * *

It never took Ikkaku long to master anything he put his mind to, especially when he had an opponent who knew which openings to exploit. He'd always crowed that Yumichika was the best training aid he could ask for, and Yumichika proved him right with the new shape of Hozukimaru - by the time their last exercise in the World of the Living came around, Ikkaku had no trouble at all utilizing the three-sectioned spear in real conflict.

They'd gone on forays to the World of the Living several times over the course of the years for various training purposes, but Yumichika never did get comfortable with such a strange, dissimilar world. Ikkaku had been surprised at the progress made since his death, not recognizing anything around him. Yumichika hoped he never got stationed in the World of the Living for any length of time, because he certainly couldn't get used to such a dirty, ugly place.

Their last exercise was to test their skill in Hollow Purification, a test which made the Kido portion so important. Yumichika felt a little guilty that he wasn't on the perimeter simultaneously supporting the barrier and dispatching Hollows outside of it; however, he couldn't feel _too_ terrible when he knew Ikkaku was counting on him.

"This is a city-scale exercise," their team leader informed them, standing at the head of their group. He'd already indicated that Ikkaku would be his co-captain for the exercise, considering that Ikkaku had conducted several similar exercises for second and third-year students. Yumichika doubted that Ikkaku would have to step into the lead role, though - their combat instructor was as combat-ready as Ikkaku always was. "You're not required to stay in buddy teams, but it is encouraged. You will all be assessed on your individual performances, however, even in a group setting. Remember, a Death God will often be confronted by Hollows! It is a requirement of our Academy that you are willing to and capable of cleansing their spirits. The cycle of life and death is ours to maintain; I cannot express the seriousness of the duties you'll be entrusted with."

He tipped his head a little, listening to the transmission coming over his headpiece. Nodding shortly, he said, "Alright, the Kido team is in place and the Barrier is up. The Hollows will begin arriving any second, so get to your positions!"

"Yumichika," Ikkaku lowly said.

"Yes," he confirmed, and dashed after Ikkaku when he headed for their section.

He already knew the rules, knew not to get in Ikkaku's way or interfere at all, but he was determined to near him, if only to be Ikkaku's lucky charm.

The Hollows were moderately strong ones, drawn by the carefully distributed bait they all carried in order to lure them in. Of course, the stronger the spirit power, the more enticing it was to the Hollow, so in no time at all Ikkaku was attracting even larger Hollows.

Yumichika dispatched them with an ease that concealed his slight anxiety. He couldn't put his finger on it, but for some reason he had a bad feeling about this exercise. It wasn't fear for Ikkaku or even for his own life, but a kind of dread that made him hesitate, time after time.

For his part, Ikkaku was absolutely oblivious to anything other than the Hollows attacking him. He'd released Hozukimaru to its fullest and was in his element, actually teasing those ugly things in order to draw out the fight.

"_Where are you looking, little boy_?"

Yumichika spun around, startled, and leapt back as a large Hollow emerged from the shadows of an alley. He'd never had one speak to him before. Even though he'd been taught that they would, that the smarter of them could reason and plot, actually witnessing it was a little past his comfort zone.

"How dare you speak to me, you ugly thing?" he hissed, pointing Ruri'iro Kujaku at it. It was a vile creature, its mask a twisted parody of a grinning skull, its body bristling with too many limbs and a tail tipped in a deadly stinger.

"_Oh? Ugly? Then I'll be prettier once I've eaten you, won't I? Hold still_!"

Yumichika leapt back when it lunged, baring his teeth in frustration when he lost sight of Ikkaku. His own predicament took all of his attention, and all of his skill when the thing brought its many limbs into play. It forced him back and back, so deep into that alley that the faint streetlights could no longer illuminate it.

The ugly thing actually _laughed_, enjoying Yumichika's frustration, unfazed whenever he managed to cut off a grasping hand.

"_Stop being so annoying_!" It told him. "_Just let me eat you! Then I will go eat your friend - all that delicious spirit energy is making my mouth water_!"

"Ugh, you're disgusting!" Yumichika said, wrinkling his pretty nose. "Stop talking to me! Why don't _you_ hold still, and I'll slice your head in two and put us _both_ out of our misery!"

He lunged, intending to take the thing off guard, gasping in shock whenever it revealed yet another limb on its belly. There was no avoiding it, and Yumichika cursed himself for a fool whenever it wrapped around him several times, pinning both arms to his sides.

"_Ah, that's better_," it chortled, opening its maw and lifting Yumichika closer. "_Now, don't struggle_..."

'_How ugly this is. Do you intend to let him eat you_?'

Yumichika found himself in the Garden with disorienting speed, kneeling among the blooms where the Azure Peacock was laying in a puddle of feathers and kimono. He'd settled on a shape over the years, a beautiful youth with Yumichika's own violet eyes and black hair, wearing that azure kimono embroidered with peacocks, the back of which became a train of long, luxurious peacock feathers.

'_I hope you don't think Ikkaku is coming to save you_,' he said, sitting up to smooth his silky black hair, a crown of vines and blossoms twined through his black locks. Even in the midst of crisis, Yumichika noticed the wispy feathers mingled in Ruri'iro Kujaku's long lashes, and the way they flared from his eyebrows, a lovely adornment that suited him. '_He's busy with that lazy spirit of his. And while _I'm_ not lazy, here I am all the same, rendered useless by a useless wielder. How in the name of fate and harmony did I _ever_ manage to be born from your soul, Yumichika? Hm?_'

"Is there something you want, you rude thing?" Yumichika asked.

The Azure Peacock's face transformed with his considerable temper and he flared, '_I want you to stop denying me, Yumichika! Stop looking at me with such distaste in those stupid eyes! I hate your eyes, you know! _Violet_ - it's too close to Wisteria. I _hate_ Wisteria! It's so, so common!_'

"What's wrong with Wisteria?" Yumichika asked. "And my eyes are perfectly beautiful, thank you very much! They're the same color as _your_ eyes, you stupid peacock!"

'_How dare you_!' Ruri'iro Kujaku cried, affronted. '_If I could choose the traits I get from you, I certainly wouldn't have chosen those ugly violet eyes! I'll show you the _true_ color of my eyes, Yumichika, and then you'll see what power you're sealing away from yourself..._'

Yumichika opened his mouth to prevent it, but the Hollow squeezed his body and he was suddenly in the World of the Living again, with the Azure Peacock burning in his tight grip.

"_Split and deviate_," he heard the Azure Peacock say, but it came from his own lips, in his own voice. "_Ruri'iro Kujaku_!"

The blade split into countless glowing, feathery, azure-blue vines and uncurled languidly towards the startled Hollow.

"_Eh? What's going on? What is this?_"

'_Kido isn't magic_,' the Azure Peacock told him, and it seemed as if he was right there next to Yumichika, standing in his beautiful kimono with his sleeve covering the lower half of his face and that train spread out like a glorious tail behind him. '_Kido is merely power that exceeds what a body can provide. Hide me if you choose, Yumichika, but even if you ask me to allow you to die, I will not do so.'_

Ruri'iro Kujaku looked at him, and his eyes were glowing the same bright azure as those unfurling vines. Yumichika could see his own face reflected in those lovely eyes and realized with a start that his, too, had changed color.

'_I have sworn no vows such as those that bind you to Madarame Ikkaku_,' the Azure Peacock told him, drifting softly to one side to watch the Hollow, his free hand snapping open an elegant fan before his face as his sleeve dropped. '_But I suppose it was inevitable that I wound up this way, Yumichika - what hope did I have when you hate yourself so?'_

The vines coiled around the Hollow and held fast even as it began to struggle. Tiny blossoms appeared, and when they did Yumichika could feel power flowing through the hilt of his sword and back into him, even tainted as it was with a Hollow's touch.

"_What are you doing to me_?" the Hollow shrieked, and dropped him in a vain attempt to escape. It flailed and struggled, but the vines held fast, draining it of its energy as those blooms became flowers.

Ruri'iro Kujaku drifted down and plucked one, offering the meaty flower to Yumichika.

'_You are your father's son, Yumichika, and you always will be. It is in your nature to take power from others to gain it for yourself. Eat, take his power for your own, and then show him the same mercy that your father always showed _you...'

Yumichika shuddered and refused, shouting, "_No_!"

The force of his resistance interrupted the work of Ruri'iro Kujaku's release and caused it to flare out of control. One of the vines pulled loose and snapped back, lashing his right arm, catching him across his chest and the base of his neck. He cried out and dropped the sword, shocked whenever it reverted to its familiar form.

'_Until you accept yourself as you are and stop hiding, we will be enemies and not friends, Yumichika_...' The Azure Peacock breathed in his ear, and then his presence vanished entirely.

Trembling, wincing at the pain left in the wake of that lashing, Yumichika picked up the silent sword and dealt the Hollow a death blow, watching it vanish into spirit particles.

"Yumichika! Hey, Yumichika! _Where are you_, I said!"

"Here," he called, cradling his right arm to his chest, wishing he had time to heal it quickly before Ikkaku reached him.

"I felt your spirit pressure go crazy," Ikkaku said, leaping down next to him, concern on his handsome face. "Are you hurt? Yumichika, what happened?"

"A Hollow," he said, his voice shaking.

"_Ayasegawa, return and report to the team leader_..."

"Ah. Go on, Yumichika, I'll take care of these guys," Ikkaku assured him. "Are you sure you're okay? It looks like you've been burned."

"I'm fine, Ikkaku," Yumichika said, pretending it didn't hurt. "I'll be back. Try not to get killed, okay?"

Ikkaku just grinned at him, and sped back to find another Hollow to destroy.

Yumichika used flash step to reach the team leader, wanting to get things over with as quickly as possible. It was too much to hope that they hadn't seen his first release, or that they'd keep the knowledge of his sword a secret.

"Ayasegawa," the team leader said, turning his attention from the exercise for just a moment. "Is this the first time you've reached _shikai_?"

"Yes, team leader," he said, standing straight and stiff despite the crawling pain in his arm and chest.

"The Observers say it is a particularly powerful Kido type," the man said, half of his attention absorbed in the other students' progress. "They recommend that you not use it again until your Kido instructor can assist you in controlling it. Did it turn on you?"

"In a manner of speaking," Yumichika admitted, knowing it was foolish to keep even that much to himself. "Sir, please...it's very important to me that no one knows of my sword's ability..."

"Ayasegawa, _every_ Death God is protective of their sword type and ability," the team leader said, a twinkle of mirth in his usually stoic eyes. "But it is our duty to ensure that our students are well educated, and that includes in the use of their Soul Cutter. You've passed, now you're dismissed to have those burns looked at. Go to the Barrier. Your instructor is waiting on you."

"Yes." He bowed deeply and headed for the Barrier, ruefully thinking that he wouldn't be joining Ikkaku back on the battlefield after all.

It wasn't his instructor that met him, however, but Tamotsu.

"Yumichika! Master told me to meet you! The Barrier started to disintegrate for some reason, he's there checking now. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, it just turns out that my sword is rude, selfish, and vain," Yumichika said, hoping the Azure Peacock could hear him. "And doesn't know how to control himself like an adult, that's all."

Tamotsu looked fairly at a loss, unsure if he should say anything about it. Instead, he urged Yumichika into the relief tent where those who specialized in medical kido were busy doing their own final tests - healing the combatants who'd gotten harmed.

"Here, sit down," Tamotsu ordered, peeling back the scorched sleeve of Yumichika's uniform to bare his right arm. "How strange...I've never seen a burn make such patterns."

Yumichika looked down and saw the angry red marks had formed something that almost looked like a curling vine with a blossom, or even a curved peacock feather.

"I'll heal it," Tamotsu said, covering the burn with his hands. Green light flared as he worked, mending cells, reducing the inflammation, reworking the layers of Yumichika's skin so that the pain stopped. Whenever he moved his hands, however, the mark remained - a faint trail of a scar marring his perfect skin.

"I don't understand," Tamotsu said, bewildered. "I did everything correctly. You shouldn't have a scar..."

"It is no failure on your part, Tamotsu."

"Teacher!" They said in tandem, and both of them stood to bow as the aged man came in.

"Yumichika, you forced it back, didn't you?" the man asked, lifting Yumichika's arm to inspect it. "It is a bad idea to antagonize a Soul Cutter spirit, Yumichika, especially one as powerful and temperamental as _yours_."

"T...temperamental?" Yumichika asked, surprised that he would know. "Teacher - "

"You refuse to acknowledge the spirit, and so the spirit has marked you for all to see," the man said. "It is not unusual for Soul Cutter spirits and their Death God to share common markings and characteristics, but in this case I believe these marks would disappear if you were to accept your Soul Cutter spirit as an equal instead of as an embarrassment."

Yumichika ducked his head, ashamed of his own conduct, and quietly said, "Teacher...I cannot accept it. Ikkaku wouldn't understand..."

"Have you ever tried to ask your Soul Cutter if _he_ understands?"

Yumichika looked up, startled. He and Ruri'iro Kujaku had been at odds for so long on the subject of Madarame Ikkaku that he hadn't even considered having a rational conversation with him about it.

"Yumichika, this conflict cannot continue. If you're going to hide the power of your Soul Cutter, at least honor it in other ways. Perhaps that will satisfy it and these marks will vanish. For now, Tamotsu, heal the marks on his chest and throat, and return him to the battlefield if he is so determined to waste his talents."

"Teacher..."

Yumichika unhappily watched his aged mentor return to the Barrier, wishing that following his heart didn't include paring away the people who'd become important to him.

"Don't be upset, Yumichika," Tamotsu urged him, moving to lay his hands on Yumichika's chest. "He's just disappointed, that's all. He had high hopes in you regarding the Kido Corps. A master's fondest wish is success for his students, and their success gives him pride in himself as a teacher. I'll try to make him proud enough for the both of us, as long as you try your hardest to keep that stupid, bald bastard alive."

"Tamotsu!" Yumichika said, shocked.

"What? Keeping him alive is the only thing you want most, isn't it?" Tamotsu asked, smiling at him. "I want you to be happy, Yumichika, and I know if Ikkaku died, you'd probably die, too."

He blushed because it was true, and he couldn't get away fast enough once Tamotsu had healed him. He felt oddly guilty for refusing the Azure Peacock as he had, especially when that vain, vicious spirit was only trying to make him come to terms with himself. He could deny it all he wanted, but he _was_ his father's son - after all, here he was hurting countless people in order to get what he wanted, even if what he wanted was out of his reach. He was ruthless and cruel in his pursuit of Madarame Ikkaku, and how was that _not_ the very embodiment of Ichigawa Daichi?

The exercise had ended by the time he returned, and he spotted Ikkaku among the others, looking this way and that until his grey eyes landed on Yumichika. The slender man threaded his way through the crowd to reach Ikkaku's side, smiling wanly at him.

"What happened, Yumichika, eh?" Ikkaku asked, pitching his voice low so as not to disturb the others listening to their team leader.

"I had some trouble, that's all," he said, unwilling to admit his _shikai_. "I had to go get patched up."

"_Eh?!_" Ikkaku snatched his arm by the wrist and lifted it, inspecting the trailing vines of that scar over his forearm. "What _is_ this, Yumichika? It looks like a vine this way...but this way it looks like a feather..."

"It's just a scar, Ikkaku," Yumichika breathed, trying to keep him quiet. "Is it...is it terribly ugly?"

"Eh? You have it here, too?" Ikkaku's finger traced the skin on his chest and up to the base of his neck where he gently touched his throat, lifting goosebumps on Yumichika's skin. "Nah, it suits you, Yumichika. Leave it to you to get a scar that's _pretty_. What did this to you, eh? Is this from a Hollow or from your Soul Cutter?"

"Nevermind it, Ikkaku," Yumichika told him, thinking that he was going to have to come up with a way to cover the marks if he was going to keep Ikkaku's nose out of his business. "It looks like we're heading back."

"Yeah, all the Hollows are gone," Ikkaku said, sounding fairly put out. "What a waste of time! Not a one of them was very strong! I wish I'd met the one who did that to you, Yumichika, I'd have killed it before it hurt you."

"Oh, it's quite dead," Yumichika said, recalling those feathery vines and how easily they'd subdued that ugly thing.

"Still," Ikkaku complained, scowling. "It pisses me off when something hurts you. Stay close to me from now on, I mean it, Yumichika. I told you I'd take care of you, damn it, so don't go getting messed up where I can't get to you, understand?"

Yumichika smiled, forcing the memory of those vines away, doing his best to forget the Azure Peacock's parting promise.

"I understand, Ikkaku," he murmured, and hid his slight shiver whenever Ikkaku slung a muscular arm over his shoulders in easy companionship.

It was enough for now.

Until his bravery could match his desire, it would _have_ to be, and Yumichika knew it.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Okay, sorry for the delay, but I'm making the chapters longer so I don't end up with another fifty-plus epic (again - Eromenos, I'm looking at **_**you**_**). If it's too long, sorry, it just happened that way. I'd also like to say a personal thank you to Yumebaah, Empires, and Love1398 for your supportive reviews! Feedback is food, and I appreciate you all letting me know that you're reading and enjoying the story! It's hard to gauge how well it's being received - the reviews help me immensely and I do appreciate them! Thank you!**_

* * *

Yumichika found that he was anxious.

He didn't like to be anxious, since it didn't go well with his coloring, but he was all the same, and noted with aggravation that Ikkaku was decidedly _not_. Of the two of them, the bald Death God should be the one ready to snap with anticipation; instead, the longer they stood waiting in the Squad Eleven briefing room for their first introduction to their new Captain, the more relaxed and happy he got.

The others in the room had glanced at them a few times, but had left them alone. Yumichika recognized only a handful of rough rowdies from their class. He assumed that the bulk of the others were rejects from other Squads transferred in with the newcomers.

"Ugh, how ugly," he breathed, angling his nose away when he caught an unpleasant whiff of stale sweat. He didn't mind the usual scent of it, fresh during training and only doing its given work, but he exceedingly disliked individuals who didn't take proper care of themselves and made everyone _else_ suffer for it.

"You'll get used to it," Ikkaku said, as if it didn't bother him. Of course, there weren't many opportunities to bathe on the battlefield, and he'd certainly spent enough time there as a boy. Still, Yumichika had never once recalled Ikkaku smelling badly, even when he'd accused him of it as children.

"_Highly_ unlikely," he murmured, wrinkling his nose and edging closer to Ikkaku against the wall.

"Hey," one of them finally said, one dark eye skimming Yumichika's figure, the other blind and still. "I think I know y - "

"Piss off," Ikkaku said, still scanning the room, alert for the entrance of their Captain. Yumichika knew that Ikkaku could feel the man's spirit pressure, but he himself had too much interference from those around him to sense it.

"Hey, I was just talking to her!"

Yumichika stiffened in offense, his eyes widening. "_How dare you_!"

"Hey, _hey_!" Ikkaku loudly cut in, skewering the man with a dark glare. "Do you see us standing here by ourselves? _EH_?! He doesn't want your ugly face so close, got it?"

"You want to keep me away, baldie?"

Yumichika fully expected Ikkaku to lose his temper, which wasn't stable at the best of times, but instead Ikkaku just grinned fiercely and lowly told the man, "I got bigger fish to fry than _you_, you moron. Leave him alone or you'll deal with me, and I'm as mean as he is pretty, got it?"

Yumichika's heart pounded with nerves to hear him say that. He'd worried himself sick last night chewing over the idea that Ikkaku would present a challenge to Captain Zaraki. Yes, these past six years had made Ikkaku much, much stronger, and had deepened his synergy with his Soul Cutter spirit, but the same might be said of the man who'd nearly killed him once already. He had blind and enormous faith in Ikkaku in everything but this, and he prayed that Ikkaku would use his head for a change and see how impossible it was.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the glowering man move away. He knew he should thank Ikkaku, but such things were simply understood between them. Even if he'd thrown a fit and demanded that Ikkaku not do such things, the loud warrior still would. And even if Ikkaku demanded that Yumichika not come with him somewhere, _Yumichika_ still would. Some things simply went without saying for the pair of them...

"Oh? This is what we get this time?"

He heard the unmistakable sound of that little pink-haired girl's voice and glanced around to find her leaning in the window looking at them all.

"A kid? Hey, go away, this is no place for you!"

One of the new members moved to the window to shoo her, making as if to close it.

Ikkaku grinned, but even he was surprised when she bounced through the window and landed on one graceful, tiny foot, fully garbed as a Death God and bearing a Lieutenant's insignia on her bicep.

"Squad Eleven Lieutenant Kusajishi Yachiru," she announced, dimpling. "Nice to meet you! Ah! Kenny!"

She sped off towards the doors as they were flung wide open, admitting the massive, forceful presence of Captain Zaraki.

'_He's bigger than I remember_,' Yumichika despairingly thought, hoping that it was simply due to the fact that he was contained in a room that seemed significantly smaller since he arrived.

The huge man strode down the length of the room, Yachiru attaching herself to his shoulder like a little monkey.

"I'm Squad Eleven Captain Zaraki Kenpachi," he said, his low voice rumbling deeply enough to echo in Yumichika's ribcage. "_Listen up_! I don't care about where you're from, how old you are, or what your record looks like."

Everyone was staring at him like they'd seen some sort of monster, half of them fighting the urge to flee. Ikkaku, though...Yumichika couldn't decipher that look on his face, but he didn't like it all the same.

"You can say whatever you want, I won't censor any opinions here, but I also won't endorse them. I'm not gonna force you to stay, but there's no guarantee that I'll keep you, either," Captain Zaraki warned, turning at the head of the room to glare at them. "I want one thing."

He sat down, his large frame spread out, Yachiru drumming her small feet on the floor with glee.

"What I want from you is _strength_," he said, his terrible, cold eyes sweeping the room. "I like strong guys; guys who can fight."

"Same here," Ikkaku called, and when the crowd parted to expose him to Zaraki's penetrating gaze, he pushed away from the wall to take a step closer. "I came, just like you told me to."

Yumichika could see when Zaraki recognized him, and he was surprised when the man grinned his sharp grin, actually pleased and impressed. Yumichika covered his anxiety with his usual careless amusement, as if nothing in the world could affect the equilibrium of his emotions, and waited for Ikkaku to issue the challenge.

"Who's the Third Seat?" Ikkaku asked, the fire of anticipation seeping into his loud, raspy voice. "_Eh_? Where is he? He's next after your Lieutenant, right?"

Yumichika nearly melted into a puddle of relief, however short-lived it may be.

Captain Zaraki laughed, amused, an unfathomable gleam of his own coming into those strange, cold eyes.

"You think you can take him?" he asked, still grinning at Ikkaku.

"Do _you_?"

The large man stood, tipping his head back to look down at them all from the bottoms of his eyes, an altogether intimidating picture that only reinforced everyone's unspoken dread of him.

"Koji," he said, still baring those unusually sharp teeth.

"Go get Ryo-_kun_, Bug Eyes!" Yachiru called to the man, Koji. She giggled and jumped onto Captain Zaraki's back, dangling like an odd adornment over his shoulder, her Soul Cutter dragging behind her.

Ikkaku's grin deepened to something fierce and almost frightening, and Yumichika steeled himself for what would, no doubt, be a merciless clash between bloodthirsty warriors.

* * *

Ryo - or, Honma Ryo, as he introduced himself - was a slight, oddly bookish young fellow with a hesitant smile that somehow made all of Squad Eleven's seasoned rank-and-file cringe. He wasn't threatening or impressive, and seemed more suited to work in a library than as a unit leader in Zaraki's brutal squad. Still, Yumichika himself knew how deceiving looks could be, and he was relieved that Ikkaku wasn't going to take the man lightly. After all, in all of these people present, Ryo was the strongest aside from Captain Zaraki and the little girl who spent so much time immersed in his spirit pressure.

Zaraki himself was sitting on the terrace outside of his office with Yachiru next to him, watching the proceedings in the training grounds with a hungry grin. He'd taken Ikkaku's measure once before, after all, and knew better than anybody if Ikkaku was capable of defeating the slender, quiet Ryo.

Everyone else gathered around the fringes of the training ground and on the barracks terraces to watch, staying well clear of the pair. Yumichika was as close as he could get without being in the way, straining to hear what was said.

"And who are you?" Ryo asked after introducing himself.

"Ah, no one," Ikkaku told him, grinning, Hozukimaru slung negligently over his shoulder. "I'll tell you once I've defeated you. I got a rule about introductions, kid - and I don't intent to kill you."

"Ah, well that _is_ a relief," Ryo mildly said, his smooth face solemn. "Can I ask why not?"

"Because you're experienced and it's a waste, is what," Ikkaku told him, the humor dropping from his tone to leave him brittle and hard. "If I'm going to be in charge of a unit, I don't want inexperienced idiots mucking things up."

"Well, unfortunately, I don't think I'll just allow you to have Third Seat," Ryo lamented, frowning. "And whether you kill me or not will be decided by how hard you have to fight to keep up with me. But if you want to try for a Seat, sir, you can always start with Fifteen and work up from there."

"Nah," Ikkaku said, grinning. "Three suits me just fine."

Yumichika gasped silently for air as Ikkaku's spirit pressure flared and settled into a steady eruption of power. Yumichika could see the red aura of it surrounding him, strong enough that it stirred his uniform and kicked up dust from the training ground's packed surface. Even though he'd been with Ikkaku for so long, the man had a tendency to suppress his spirit power, which made revealing it all the more impressive, and gave Yumichika the feeling that someone was slowly, painfully squeezing his chest with its force.

"Ah! How scary!" Ryo commented, and Yumichika couldn't tell if his surprise was feigned or genuine. His own spirit pressure welled up in an eruption of pale yellow, tasting of bitter sharpness. "But I've been near stronger, I suppose..."

"Yo!" Captain Zaraki called, his deep voice carrying. "Get on with it, you two!"

Ikkaku dashed at the smaller man, and Ryo easily slipped out of his path, saying in that same retiring manner, "Oh, close!"

"Come here, you little bastard!" Ikkaku yelled, lunging again.

Ryo drew his Soul Cutter with the same speed that he'd used to avoid Ikkaku's attack, and brought it up to block the man's hit, his smooth expression never changing.

They clashed, sparks flying, Ryo parrying Ikkaku with a quick-thinking skill that threatened to plant a seed of doubt in his surety that Ikkaku could win. Both of them were experts in their weapon, and both of them had speed and power that was shocking to behold.

Yumichika, however, knew by the look on Ikkaku's face that he was toying with Ryo, learning the length of his reach, adapting himself to the man's fighting style to give himself an advantage. Ryo, too, seemed to sense it, because the next time Ikkaku moved to take advantage of his reach, Ryo managed to surprise him by extending it and nearly getting Ikkaku. Both of them sprang apart, bleeding and panting, warily watching each other.

"You like fighting?" Ikkaku asked.

"I wouldn't be with him if I didn't," Ryo quietly told him, blood snaking down his slender wrist to reach across his sword hand.

"Well, you don't _look_ as if you like it," Ikkaku informed him, flicking his arm to fling the blood away.

"Looks can be deceptive," Ryo said, and lunged again.

It was one of the more grueling fights of Ikkaku's that Yumichika had ever witnessed, topped only by the trouncing Zaraki had given him. But he could see that, little by little, Ikkaku was slowly gaining the upper hand, and Ryo was no fool.

"_Chew him through_," Ryo murmured, sliding his hand down the length of his blade. "_Osoroshīi Haiena_!"

The blade shifted and grew, swelling into an enormous ax that had had to outweigh the slight Ryo. The opposite end was a cylindrical weight to balance it, a set of five chains dangling from the end. Yumichika found the form quite horrible, with its chewed, chipped edge and some ugly, grinning creature pressed into relief on its face. This was not a weapon meant to grant a fast, clean death, no. This awful Soul Cutter was designed to deal pain, and when Ryo swung it, it made a chilling, howling sound like something monstrous cackling madly.

Still, Ikkaku did not release Hozukimaru. Using the blade and the sheath in tandem, he used his sheer strength to turn the whining edge of that ghastly ax, but Ryo's use of his Soul Cutter was precise and smooth. He used the length of it to keep his opponent at a distance, extending his reach even further by using the chains at its end, though that changed the thing's balance and left him open.

'_Be careful_,' Yumichika thought, lifting his thumb to his mouth to chew it, then thinking better of it. Twice, now, Ikkaku had glanced over at him as if to reassure himself that Yumichika was present and accounted for. It wouldn't do for Yumichika to present anything other than complete confidence in the outcome, so he smoothed his hair instead and called out, "Win quickly against that horrible thing, Ikkaku. It isn't beautiful in the least..."

Ikkaku laughed, the sound carrying over the roar of the watching squad members, and when Ryo swung again, Ikkaku jumped on the shaft, forcing the broken edge into the ground and dealing Ryo two swift, dangerous blows.

Ryo drew back, wrenching the ax free, blood pouring down his face. He was no longer serene, no longer calm, but transformed with a rage that wasn't quite sane. The fight took a turn for the dangerous and earnest, both men fighting with ferocious intent. Ryo used that ugly weapon with speed and grace that made its ungainly size and weight seem perfectly balanced somehow, and all the more dangerous for it.

Ikkaku finally released Hozukimaru, exploring the new advantages of its form while their blood mingled on the packed dirt ground. The fight was quickly turning desperate, and there were a few times when Yumichika had to close his eyes for a moment, unwilling to see that cackling ax bite into Ikkaku's precious flesh.

Then he heard Ikkaku call out, and opened his eyes to see Hozukimaru wrapped around Ryo's Soul Cutter, the sharp edge of it buried in the man's chest beneath his right arm.

"_Heh_!" Ikkaku pulled back, Hozukimaru snapping into its _naginata_ form, blood running down the wooden shaft from the stained blade. "Took all the fight right out of you, eh?"

Ryo dropped to his knees, his eyes wide. Blood bubbled up on his parted lips and poured from the gash in his chest, the wheezing noise of his breath speaking to a punctured lung.

Ikkaku pushed him over with one sandaled foot, and kicked the end of his Soul Cutter away from his reaching fingers.

But instead of killing him, Ikkaku merely looked around at the watching squad and called, "That settles it. I am Madarame Ikkaku! Your new Third Seat!"

Utter, shocked silence followed, and then a few began to complain that Ikkaku should kill Ryo, that killing him was the only thing to do to seal the deal. Ikkaku bared his teeth and glared at them, but before he could defend his decision, Captain Zaraki stood and everyone fell silent.

"Complaining like a bunch of women, how boring," the man said, glaring at them all. "Kill him or don't, it doesn't matter. He can't fight anymore, so where's the fun in it now? _Stupid_."

He turned and strode off, Yachiru clinging to his shoulder and looking back at them, asking in her high, small voice, "Ryo-kun had fun, didn't he, Kenny?"

"Yeah. Whatever."

The squad broke up, and no one seemed inclined to come to Ryo's aid, even though he lay struggling for breath in the dirt with Ikkaku straddling his body.

Yumichika drifted closer, watching Ikkaku's Hozukimaru retreat into its normal sword form.

"Third Seat," he observed. "Is that high enough for you, Ikkaku?"

"Don't be stupid, Yumichika," Ikkaku said, grinning fiercely through a veil of blood. "You think he'd tolerate challenges to that little brat on his shoulder? _Eh_? Ha! She's been with him for no one knows how long; she's probably damned-near as much a monster as _he_ is now."

Yumichika looked down at Ryo, whose own Soul Cutter had reformed as a sword.

"You should finish him off," he suggested. "Letting someone drown in their own blood is just ugly."

"Nah, he'll be fine," Ikkaku said, and pitched his voice low to ask him, "_Won't he, _Yumichika?"

"Hmph." Yumichika breezily sighed, and crouched carefully in the dust to turn Ryo over. "Now, listen - I want you to hold still, no matter what you may feel. Do you understand?"

Ryo coughed a splatter of blood and wetly wheezed, "I don't need your help."

"Stupid," Yumichika breathed, and put his hands on the man's tight chest, focusing his Kido so that the tell-tale green glow wouldn't appear above his hands. "I'm not going to help you, I just want to see what he's done. You can go to the relief squad, or die in your bed, however you wish it." He looked up at Ikkaku, who was reflecting on his victory, and softly added, "Far be it from me to deny a man his chosen death."

Ryo coughed harshly, bringing up a gout of blood, but gradually his breathing grew less labored as Yumichika worked. He wasn't terribly familiar with internal organs, but a patch job was all he was after, and he was able to repair the puncture that had compromised Ryo's lung. Though he was pasty pale and drained of energy, the prior Third Seat would live if he wanted to.

Ikkaku said nothing, but a slight lessening of his tension bespoke his approval, and Yumichika pulled his hands away, wiping them on Ryo's uniform.

"Hey. _Hey_, I said!" Ikkaku repeated, glowering at a small clutch of squad members grouping up just out of normal earshot. "What're you doing, eh?"

"Ryo, sir!" one of them called, uncertain of his reception. He bowed, and said, "Sir! Honma Ryo is - er - _was_ our unit leader! Please, sir, allow us to take his body!"

"He's not dead, you fools," Yumichika informed them, throwing them off by addressing them instead of Ikkaku. Clearly, it was not the way things were done around Squad Eleven...but they'd learn... "If you value him as a comrade, then take him to the relief squad."

They all bowed this time, but hesitated still.

"What the hell's the matter with you idiots?!" Ikkaku flared, irritated by them. "_Take him to squad four_!"

"Yes, Sir!"

Yumichika watched, mildly amused as they quickly collected Ryo and settled who exactly would be allowed to carry him on their back.

"I guess they don't do anything without orders," he observed, thinking it quite unfortunate. "After all, they _are_ yours now, if they belong to the Third Seat."

"Heh, morons," Ikkaku said, cracking his neck.

"Ikkaku? Do you want me to treat those wounds?" Yumichika offered.

"Nah, I'll live, brat," Ikkaku said, grinning, looking a perfect horror with so much blood all over him.

"You idiot," Yumichika softly said. "At least let me see..."

He used Ikkaku's momentary stillness to quickly and surreptitiously mend the worse of the wounds he sported. Nothing insofar as knitting the skin together - Ikkaku was no fool and would notice such a thing - but at least closing the severed blood vessels that threatened to need stitching. To be honest, he figured that Ikkaku knew what he'd done, but it suited both of them to pretend ignorance, like so much that passed between them.

"Good thing I won," Ikkaku said, tolerating Yumichika's gentle touch on his sore back.

"I suppose. You could have tried again," Yumichika said, easing his shredded, bloodied coat back up over his shoulder.

"They have strange rules about these things," Ikkaku told him, wincing a little, then quickly dismissing the pain. "You can challenge anyone anywhere as long as you've never issued a challenge before. But if you challenge and lose, then you have to start at the bottom."

"Hm...Fifteen official seats? I think that would take you all of a day," Yumichika said, smiling when Ikkaku puffed up like a peacock, inordinately proud of himself. "So Ryo...he could just come back and challenge you again?"

"Nah, not now that he's lost his Seat," Ikkaku said, heading back towards the barracks area with Yumichika drifting at his side. "He'll have to start at the bottom."

"When did you find this out?" Yumichika asked, cutting his violet eyes at Ikkaku. He'd never caught up height-wise, but he couldn't say he was sorry anymore.

"I asked around before graduation," Ikkaku answered. "Our combat instructor figured I'd be suited to the Eleventh and gave me some pointers. So...what'd you think, Yumichika, eh?"

"What's this? Are you fishing for praise, Madarame?" Yumichika inquired, angling a wry look at him. "That bald head of yours doesn't need to get any bigger..."

"_Damn it, Yumichika! I'm not _bald!" Ikkaku snarled, stopping in his tracks as Yumichika drifted forward.

"If it suits you to say so," Yumichika airly said, waving one hand dismissively.

"Damn you, you damned brat!" Ikkaku howled, but decided to let it drop. He was still scowling, however, when they reached the area where a good majority of the squad members were anxiously waiting.

The reason for their unease was the presence of Lieutenant Yachiru, who was bouncing around like a ping-pong ball, giggling her head off.

"Yay! Yay! Ryo-kun had fun with Baldy! YAY!"

"_That damned kid_," Ikkaku hissed, his grey eyes narrowed with malice.

"Ikkaku," Yumichika breathed, softly reminding him that she was their Lieutenant, whatever the case may be.

"Now you can have your own room, Cue Ball!" Yachiru told him, giggling when Ikkaku scowled at her.

"Eh? What'd you mean?"

"The first four Seated Officers are given their own quarters," Koji hesitantly slipped in, reluctant to draw attention to himself after everything that had gone on. "By all rights, Ryo's is yours if you want it, Madarame, sir...Ryo never did move in. He stayed in the common barracks with the rest of us."

"Oh?"

"Yep! Ryo-kun thought it was too much trouble!" Yachiru shouted, grinning widely before pattering off to find the Captain. "_Move in, Cue Ball! Kenny will be so happy_!"

"That brat," Ikkaku breathed, glowering.

"Er...Madarame?"

"Yumichika," Ikkaku said, watching her until she was out of sight. "Go get our things."

"Yes, Ikkaku," Yumichika said, stepping away towards the barracks and their belongings. Others in the squad were avidly watching, wondering if he, too, would suddenly decide to shoot to the head of their pecking order. Yumichika did nothing to either support or destroy that curiosity - he had his own ambitions, but he wasn't sure what he wanted as yet. If Ikkaku had aspired to become the Lieutenant himself, then Yumichika wouldn't have hesitated to fight his way to third seat, that most graceful and beautiful of numbers. Luck would have it, though, that Ikkaku was perfectly content to take that number himself, leaving Yumichika with the task of assessing those in his way for weaknesses. He couldn't afford to allow Ruri'iro Kujaku to emerge fully among these men, or their respect would collapse like a house of cards. No, it would take some thought and preparation first, and those things would take time...

Koji was hovering at the door to the Third Seat's room when he got back, fidgeting anxiously and clearly wishing he was anywhere else but where he was. When Yumichika turned up before him with their few belongings, he hastened out of the way with a bow, saying, "It hasn't been touched since the previous Third Seat was here. You'll probably need to clean it out..."

Yumichika turned to look at him, a frosty smile curving his lovely lips, and asked in a soft tone of polite menace, "_Why aren't you cleaning it out _now?"

Koji started, and shot off to find others to help him, shouting, "Yes, Ayasegawa! My deepest apologies, Ayasegawa!"

"Ah, Yumichika, terrorizing everyone already?" Ikkaku asked, lolling to a stop along the terrace with a rather stiff, overly masculine man with him. He'd pulled his bloody, shredded uniform loose enough to slide his left arm out, and had it resting negligently in the sling of his clothing, a comfortable pose that Yumichika hadn't seen since they'd joined the Academy. "This is Tetsuzaemon Iba, the Fourth Seat."

"It is truly an honor to meet you," Yumichika told him, bowing in respect. He was quite curious about Iba, but tried to restrain himself for now. It was enough to get a good look at the man, though he found Iba's severe haircut and thin facial hair less than beautiful... "I am Ayasegawa Yumichika."

"Yeah, Madarame told me," Iba said, his words as direct as his actions. He seemed just as curious as Yumichika, and baldly said, "You don't look like you belong here, Ayasegawa."

"I beg your pardon," Yumichika said, spearing him with a hard look. "But if Ikkaku calls a place home, then it is _my_ home as well, whatever I may _look like_."

"Er..sorry, I didn't mean to offend you," Iba said, sounding a little confused but not angry. "It's just that the men here...well..._look_ at them - a bunch of vicious savages crowing for a fight."

"Then I suppose I'll have to lend a measure of grace and refinement to such an unseemly crowd," Yumichika grandly offered, glaring at Ikkaku when he laughed his usual loud, carefree laugh and shook his bald head. "Is there something you'd like to say, Madarame?"

"No, not a word, I know better," Ikkaku said, grinning. "You'll get used to him, Iba. Believe me, if you're in a pinch, you'll want Yumichika with you."

Iba appeared uncertain, but willing to give it the benefit of the doubt all the same, and offhandedly said, "We're going drinking later, Ayasegawa, if you'd like to join us."

"Oh? Well, I suppose..."

"So sorry, Ayasegawa! We'll have it cleaned out before you know it!"

They were interrupted by the return of Koji and a handful of the lower rank and file, most of them a little wide-eyed to be so near both Ikkaku and Iba.

"Hey, _hurry it up_!" Ikkaku shouted at them, scowling. "If there's any dust, Yumichika will hurt you, understand?"

"_Yes, Sir!_"

"You're taking him with you?" Iba asked, indicating Yumichika with a nod of his head.

"Yeah," Ikkaku answered, his thoughts elsewhere, most likely on the _sake_ he'd be drinking soon.

"It's not very big," Iba pointed out, angling his head to see inside as the men hurriedly began to haul in cleaning supplies. "But bigger than the room _I _got."

"We'll manage," Ikkaku said, dismissing it. "Keep an eye on them, Yumichika?"

"Yes, Ikkaku," Yumichika said, and caught Iba's eye long enough to say, "And I don't particularly like being talked about as if I can't hear, Tetsuzaemon. But you'll find out soon enough that I'm not just a pretty _accessory_..."

Iba didn't know whether to look alarmed or amused, but by the time he headed off with Ikkaku, he'd settled on alarmed and wary, and that suited Yumichika just fine.

The cleaning was completed in less time than Yumichika considered appropriate, prompting him to make them repeat it. When they had finally finished, Koji reluctantly reported to Yumichika, who inspected the room with a critical eye.

"It will do, I suppose," he said, thinking that they'd actually done a thorough job. "Has that bedding been changed?"

"_Yes_, Ayasegawa," Koji quickly answered, bowing shortly. "But...there is only one set..."

"That's not your concern," Yumichika told him, his words as cold and sharp as ice. "Madarame and I are more than capable of handling our sleeping arrangements, thank you very much. Now, go away. I find your manner very ugly; subservience isn't beautiful, even when it's necessary."

Koji scrambled away, unsure if he'd been insulted or not, but glad all the same to be away from Yumichika.

Since Ikkaku had gone off somewhere with Iba, no doubt to discuss techniques, Yumichika made his way to the quartermaster offices and signed out another set of bedding for himself. As he waited for the shy little Death God to collect the necessary items, he idly glanced around, thinking that the Court of Pure Souls was quite peaceful and beautiful. It would be no hardship living here...but there _was_ the issue of living among over two hundred sweaty, smelly brutes. Truly, the things he was willing to do for Madarame Ikkaku!

"Here you are, Ayasegawa," the little girl said, bowing sweetly. Ah, to be among such serene people, now _that_ would be a true treat. But alas...

"Thank you," he said, taking the bundle from her. "You've been very helpful."

She blushed and bowed, embarrassed by his praise.

'_Goodness, was I ever so young as that_?' Yumichika thought, wondering where his time had gone. He'd lost track of how many years he'd been at Ikkaku's side, or how many years he'd longed so silently to be more to Ikkaku than just a friend or a pretty, lucky adornment. It left him feeling rather melancholy and restless to the point that even arranging their bedding and belongings couldn't shake it.

He decided to make himself some tea and watch the sunset from the terrace outside of their room, even if it did overlook the barren Squad Eleven training grounds. Several lounging squad members hastened to stand when he entered the small kitchen that served their individual needs, but since he hadn't made a play for a Seat yet, his rank was still uncertain. Yumichika watched them struggle to decide if he was dangerous on his own without Ikkaku, and decided a little prompting wouldn't hurt anything.

"I suggest you find some useful way to occupy yourselves, gentlemen," he told them. "As I have no desire for such ugly company."

Not entirely sure if they should, they erred on the side of caution and cleared out, leaving Yumichika to make his tea in peace. He hoped that by getting his bluff in early, he'd be spared the tedium of repeated challenges; but he was also sure that once the newness wore off, he'd end up having to pick a fight with a Seated Officer in order to avoid such trivial things.

"_Hey! Yumichika! HEY! Where are you, I said! Yo_!"

Yumichika sighed, picking up the chipped tray with its sad little tea set and carrying it back towards their room. Ikkaku was leaning in, his broad back to Yumichika while he shouted at the top of his lungs, as if Yumichika was hiding somewhere in that empty space. He'd bathed in the meantime, and had changed into a clean, whole uniform that suited him far better than the one from the Open Rose.

"Ikkaku," he called, settling down to sit and putting the tray delicately to one side.

"Ah, there you are," Ikkaku said, moving to sit next to him, his long legs dangling over the edge. "Why are you drinking tea? We're going out tonight. It's the first time we've been able to do anything interesting since coming here, eh?"

Yumichika poured himself a cup and sipped it, staring out at the setting sun without saying a word.

"That room is nice, right?" Ikkaku fished, hoping to find a sign that Yumichika was content. "We've shared smaller."

"True," Yumichika admitted. "Though I think you've baffled everyone, Ikkaku, having me in there as well."

"Ah, well, I don't care," Ikkaku said, shrugging and leaning back on his braced hands, wincing a little as it pulled on his wounds. "If they want to bring it up, they can do it in a challenge. Otherwise, they can keep their opinions to themselves."

"You didn't have to, you know," Yumichika told him, turning to look at Ikkaku's handsome profile. "You could have that room all to yourself."

"Ha! And leave you in the common barracks with those jackals? Not a chance, Yumichika! Not a single chance!" Ikkaku scoffed, shaking his head. "You'd have killed the lot of them the first time they looked sideways at you - and they _will_ look sideways at you, brat. How can I lead a group of dead men, eh? Besides, I like having you close where I can keep an eye on you."

"And keep me from picking off these ugly men one by one?" Yumichika lightly teased, smiling when Ikkaku grinned at him. "Ah, well, if it suits you, Ikkaku..."

"Don't give me that, Yumichika! You know very well that it suits you, too," Ikkaku shot back, an ornery gleam in his silver-sheened eyes. "Poke your nose in the air all you want, but we both know things are better with both of us together. Who would take care of you if you went to some other Squad, Yumichika, huh?"

"Who would take care of _you_?" Yumichika airily asked, pleased whenever Ikkaku didn't deny it. "That Tetsuzaemon...He's an odd fellow."

"That's rich, coming from _you_," Ikkaku pointed out, chuckling. "Yeah, he's a good guy, Yumichika. Maybe a little rough, but that's never bothered you. He's got more manners than I do, so at least he won't offend you with every little thing. So...you going to fight him?"

"I haven't decided," Yumichika said, flipping his hair and looking away. "The character for three is so beautiful..."

"What's so beautiful about three marks?" Ikkaku asked, mystified. "Still, Iba...he's a decent sort. But I know you take forever to decide anything, so I guess I won't see you fight him for some time, will I?"

Yumichika gazed at him, taking in the beloved details of his face. Ikkaku had grown into the size and shape of his limbs long before, but now he had an ease about him that only accentuated his easy confidence. Ikkaku was a strong man in his prime, content with his lot in life and full of eager spirits. He was a man with every quality to make friends quickly, but chose them with such care that true friends were few and far between.

And far be it from Yumichika to deny Ikkaku a chance at a real, peer-to-peer friendship.

"Ah, well, who knows?" he asked, sighing a little and taking another sip of his tea. "You know, _five_ rather suits me. After all, it holds _three_ in its shape, doesn't it?"

Ikkaku chuckled again, amused by the turn of Yumichika's thoughts.

"If it works for you, Yumichika, then do as you please," the man said, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "You always have anyway, you damned brat."

Yumichika smiled at him and put his cup down, saying, "Well, that's decided then. Should we go?"

Ikkaku looked out at the setting sun falling behind a screen of treetops and buildings. "Nah," he said, settling back. "Not yet, Yumichika. It's kind of nice, isn't it? Just being here and everything all quiet."

"Yes," he answered, scooting the tray to one side and leaning back to mirror Ikkaku's own negligent pose.

"Hey, Yumichika," Ikkaku said, pitching his voice low. "Are you gonna be happy here?"

Yumichika considered carefully before he softly answered, "If you're happy, Ikkaku, then _I'm_ happy."

Ikkaku grinned. "Brat."

"Idiot," he retorted, and sighed in contentment to have the man he loved so near.

* * *

As it turned out, Yumichika found _a_ place rather sooner than he'd imagined. It wasn't a seat by any means, but he'd chanced to walk into Captain Zaraki's office - which he, apparently, used very little - and found a mountain of paperwork flooding his desk.

"What on earth?"

"_Hi there, Pretty Yumi_!"

Yumichika started a little, pressing his hand to his chest to assure his heart it was quite unharmed, and breathlessly said, "Lieutenant Yachiru! I thought you were at the training grounds with everyone else!"

"Kenny's gone to take his nap, and I saw you come in," she said, bouncing through the door behind him.

"What is all this?" Yumichika asked, gesturing at the paperwork.

"Uhm, sometimes people bring it," the little girl offered, cocking her head coyly. "Sometimes I pull on it so it falls! It looks like flat snow!"

"Flat snow? Goodness, of all the strange things," Yumichika breathed. "You mean none of you attends to this?"

"Nope!" she said, and giggled. Her bright eyes landed on Yumichika's chest, where his uniform crossed together below bare skin. "What's that mark, Yun-Yun?"

"Mark? Oh," he covered it, the curling vine of feathers that Ruri'iro Kujaku had so angrily left on him. He and his Soul Cutter hadn't spoken properly since... "It's nothing."

"Oh? How did it happen?" she pressed.

"Truly, Lieutenant, it's nothing," Yumichika assured her, turning away a little to hide it. "Why doesn't anyone do this work?"

"I don't want to, and Kenny thinks paperwork is stupid."

"But...don't the others get angry that it isn't done properly?" Yumichika asked.

The little girl laughed and cried with apparent delight, "_Yep_!"

"Honestly. Very well," Yumichika sighed, shaking his head. Clearly this squad was in worse shape than he'd imagined, and he wouldn't be fighting all the time like he'd come to enjoy. "Lieutenant, do you think Captain Zaraki would mind if I dealt with this?"

She shrugged. "I don't think he'd care, Yun-Yun! Sometimes, he takes it all and throws it in the floor, and someone comes and carries it away to burn it."

Yumichika shook his head again, but he wasn't surprised. "Then if you see Ikkaku, Lieutenant, could you tell him where I am?"

"Sure! Have fun, Yumi-kun!"

She dashed off immediately, no doubt thinking she might be roped into doing some of her assigned work.

"Well, this wasn't what I had in mind," Yumichika sighed, thinking he'd have to find someone to instruct him on how to do such things. "But if Ikkaku is going to be part of this Squad, we certainly won't be known as the squad that isn't literate enough or smart enough to handle a little paperwork, thank you very much!"

He seated himself at the desk and started sorting, making piles for things to be filed, for papers needing Zaraki's signature, for disciplinary memos needing replies, and for duplicate copies to be returned to Central Forty-Six. There were personnel papers scattered in with completely useless flyers, tallies of Squad Eleven accounts, unpaid bills, and strict extortions from several Soul Society product providers for delinquency on payments.

"Yumichika?"

He looked up whenever Ikkaku came in, a frown tugging his fine lips and drawing his arched brows together.

"What're you doing in here?" the man asked, glancing around at the piles of papers.

"Paperwork," Yumichika told him, sighing as he stood and cracked his neck. "What time is it?"

"Nearly time for dinner," Ikkaku said, surprising him. "Have you been here this whole time?"

"Yes, didn't the Lieutenant tell you?"

"No, all she did was hang on my arm fit to wrench it free and ask me when you got those scars," Ikkaku said, his dark grey eyes sliding to the exposed skin of Yumichika's chest. "Yumichika...you never did tell me - how _did_ you get those scars?"

"What on earth does it matter? They're just scars, Ikkaku, you're riddled with them," Yumichika said, hoping to change the subject.

"Yeah, but not like yours," Ikkaku said, grinning suddenly. "_My_ scars aren't _pretty_."

"I beg to differ, Ikkaku," Yumichika said, smiling at him. "I find your scars quite beautiful, indeed. They make a pattern of your will, Ikkaku. Life has left a trail to trace right on your skin, and that _is_ a beautiful thing."

"Heh," Ikkaku said, shrugging. "If you say so, brat. I'll take your word for it, Yumichika. Those scars, though, I want to know how you got them."

"Through my own stubborn, foolhardy nature, Ikkaku," Yumichika said, his tone warning the man to leave it alone.

Ikkaku just gazed at him, weighing the necessity of pushing for more information.

"You can tell me anything, Yumichika," he finally said, his low, raspy voice actually gentle for a change. "You know that, right?"

"Of course, Ikkaku," he said, smiling to cover the ache in his heart that said otherwise. "You're the only one in the world I can trust."

Ikkaku grinned, baring his sharp, white teeth, enormously pleased with himself, his shoulders just a tad straighter and his chin tipped up just a fraction more. He took his friendship with Yumichika very seriously, and particular pride in being the only one the slender Death God allowed close to him.

"_I_ want a bath," Yumichika told him, pushing the chair back into place and moving around the desk. "And _you_ desperately need one!"

"Yeah, sorry," Ikkaku said, giving him a sheepish grin. "I came straight here. I didn't know what was keeping you."

"I can take care of myself, Madarame," Yumichika coolly told him, but the smile playing around his lips took the bite out of his words.

"And take care of me, too, while you're at it," Ikkaku said, and rolled his broad shoulders. "I could use a backrub, eh? I'm sore as hell. Those morons needed a lot of improvement."

Yumichika didn't say he would because Ikkaku already _knew _he would. Rin had ensured that Yumichika was more than acceptably proficient in massage, because the tempestuous beauty had required a full body rub-down before she could sleep. Besides, it gave Yumichika a good reason to be close to Ikkaku in a way the man would accept, and it was nice to be able to soothe Ikkaku's pains. Yumichika rarely had the desire to be tender or considerate of anyone, but Ikkaku was, as always, the exception.

They walked together back to the room they shared, Ikkaku loudly complaining of the unit he led, but the pride in his voice belied his harsh words.

"You'll have them whipped into shape in no time," Yumichika said, changing from his uniform into a plain white robe. Their room had a simple half-bath attached, just a commode and a sink for quick washing, so they still had to make use of the Squad Eleven public baths for true cleaning and soaking.

"Sooner than later, I hope," Ikkaku said. "So, no one has said anything to you about your placement here?"

"I don't think Zaraki runs things that cohesively," Yumichika said, letting Ikkaku lead the way to the baths. It was a pleasant path from the barracks, along a secluded, tree-lined walkway. "In fact, I think they pick their own units, or else the Seats pick their own unit members. Everyone else just seems to idle around picking fights as they wish and generally ignoring their duties except when he tells them something directly. I don't think they're lazy, Ikkaku, or that he's a bad leader, I think he just has better things to do and few of them _are_ leaders."

"Hmph." Ikkaku glowered at the idea of it. "Well, they lack discipline, that's for sure. At least I'm in a position now to change that."

"Yes."

"I'll have you in my unit, Yumichika," Ikkaku told him. "You're a waste anywhere else, and stronger than anyone else...So...are you going to challenge someone soon?"

"Soon," Yumichika said, thinking about what he wanted to do. "But on the bright side, I'm certainly used to taking orders from _you_, Madarame."

It made Ikkaku laugh his throaty, hearty laugh that Yumichika loved and couldn't resist sharing.

"Actually, I wonder if all of the squads are this out of control?" Yumichika mused, nodding at the attendant before moving towards his locker. They all had their own areas for their use to store their robes and washcloths and, in Yumichika's case, his nail file. "Are we alone?"

"Yeah," Ikkaku said, angling a wry look at him. "Yumichika, I can't believe you're still so shy. Do you think none of these guys will ever see you? Eh? They will eventually, you know."

"I don't care about eventually, I care about right now," Yumichika told him, his stern look enough to make Ikkaku relent. "I can't bear for ugly eyes to look at me, Ikkaku. You know that."

"Yeah, well, I can understand your worry," Ikkaku said, shedding his robe and grabbing his towel. "You may not be a woman, Yumichika, but that won't stop some of them."

'_I wish it wouldn't stop _you,' Yumichika thought, then paused in horror thinking he might've actually said it out loud. Heart pounding, he looked over at Ikkaku, but the man was already on his way to wash up, paying him no mind.

'_What on earth is wrong with me_?' Yumichika wondered, horrified by the train of his thoughts. Of course...it _would_ be nice if Ikkaku would look at him with something other than the same expression he viewed the furniture around them.

"Hey, hurry up, Yumichika," Ikkaku called back to him. "I'm sore, I said!"

Yumichika shook himself and joined him, washing thoroughly, enjoying the soap on his skin because nothing felt quite as amazing as _clean_ did. He got Ikkaku's back for him as per the usual, stifling his reflexive laughter when Ikkaku returned the favor, unintentionally tickling him in the process. They sloshed water over each other and moved to the soaking room.

"Here," Yumichika said, moving to the low, flat table installed for just such a purpose.

Ikkaku stretched out on his belly with a sigh, his towel draped loosely over his hips. Yumichika tucked his own towel closer so it wouldn't fall, and sat next to him to work on Ikkaku's tense back.

"You weren't exaggerating," he murmured, soothed by the heat and the silence. "You're as tight as a bow string."

Ikkaku just grunted softly, almost asleep, growing pliant under his skilled hands. It worked better with some kind of oil, like Rin had prefered, but they'd never been able to afford any, and now that they could, they'd never had a chance to go buy some.

He worked methodically, content and relaxed, enjoying the way that Ikkaku's tightened muscles responded to his firm but gentle hands. He was so absorbed in what he was doing that he failed to comprehend the sounds of another few people, and was taken by surprise whenever three others came in to soak.

They slowed to a stop when they saw him, eyes flicking from Ikkaku's body to Yumichika.

"Well?" he politely inquired, giving Ikkaku a pat on the small of his back to indicate that he was done. "Can I help you gentlemen?"

"Er..._no_, Ayasegawa, we..." one began, then trailed off, at a loss.

"We just wanted to soak for awhile," another took up, shamefaced. "We didn't mean to...to interrupt..."

"Just go soak, you idiots," Ikkaku growled, startling them. He leaned up enough to glare at them, which got them moving to a man. "Stupid."

"You'd think they've never seen anyone get a massage before," Yumichika softly said, cracking his fingers even though it wasn't beautiful.

"Well, they're gonna have to get used to a lot of changes," Ikkaku said, levering himself up. He tugged his towel off and draped it over a hook, following the others to the deep, heated bath.

Yumichika wasn't of a mind to expose himself to strangers, especially when they might remark on his scars, and he delayed at the table, fussing with his damp hair.

"Hey, now, listen to me, you knuckleheads," Ikkaku said, lying in the tub with his head back on the ledge and his grey eyes closed. "Yumichika doesn't fancy letting the likes of you have a look at him, you understand? I want you all to turn away so he can join us. _Turn away_, I said!"

They hurried to turn, their backs to him and their eyes averted.

"Ah. Thank you, Ikkaku," Yumichika sighed, shedding his towel and stepping into the hot water, shivering slightly as he sank in up to his chest. He moved next to Ikkaku and settled there with the man's arm stretched out along the ledge behind his shoulders. "Thank you, gentlemen. You're free to open your eyes."

They did so, rather subdued at first, but quickly regaining their spirits when Ikkaku engaged them in a rather unflattering contest of who exactly had bedded the most ugly woman and why they'd done so. Yumichika found it tasteless and crude, but it seemed to make them all quite friendly and willing to accept Ikkaku and, by default, Yumichika as well.

"So, tell me, gentlemen," Yumichika said, filling the companionable silence. "Are all of you from other squads?"

"We are, but he isn't," one of them said, cocking a thumb at the man on the end. "He opted in two years ago from the graduating class."

"Are the other squads structured in such a way?" Yumichika asked. "Things seem a little undefined."

"Ah, no! The other squads are pretty strict. Captain Zaraki, he's strict, too, but he doesn't care much for observing things like protocols and such. For the most part, if we do our drills and fight with him when he orders us to, he leaves us alone."

"Tetsuzaemon _does_ enforce the rules with his unit, though," one of them said, nodding a little. "They're a pretty structured bunch, but none of the other Seated Officers bother."

"Hmph. Why's that?" Ikkaku asked.

"Because the Third Seat prefered to be left alone, and that sort of set an example, I guess. It trickled down from there to the rest of the Seated Officers except for Tetsuzaemon."

"Well, things are going to change," Ikkaku warned them, slitting his eyes open just a fraction to look at each man in turn, searching for signs of dismay or irritation.

All that Yumichika saw in their expressions, however, was relief. Dangerous men needed the structure and security of even more dangerous men being in charge. Expectations would give them focus, drills would hone their abilities, and duties would keep them from idly fighting amongst themselves from boredom.

"And anyone who says differently will get a pounding, got it?" Ikkaku clarified, scowling. "Captain Zaraki already gave me leave to do what I want with you all, provided I don't get in his way, which isn't fucking likely. So, spread the word."

"Yes, sir!"

Ikkaku sat up straighter, then, and reached for Yumichika's file, flipping it in his long fingers to get the slim edge out. Wordlessly, Yumichika offered his left hand, relaxing even more as Ikkaku went to work on his fingernails.

"What've you been doing, eh? Ragged as can be," Ikkaku complained, glaring at the offending nails while the others stared on in open-mouthed surprise. "Hey, you people - you've soaked enough, haven't you?"

"Er, _yes_, Madarame, sir!"

There was a hasty scramble for towels and the men obligingly departed.

"Thank you," Yumichika murmured.

"Yeah," Ikkaku said, concentrating. "We're finishing up. I figured you'd like them to clear out."

Yumichika watched him working so diligently, smiling a little at the level of attention he paid something so inconsequential. But to Ikkaku it was important, and that made it important to Yumichika.

"So he's going to make you the de facto leader until he needs us?"

"Yeah, I guess," Ikkaku said, shrugging. "I didn't think of it like that, I just asked him if he minded us being a little more disciplined. He told me to do what I want if they'll let me, as long as I didn't get in his way."

"Hm."

"They'll listen, though," Ikkaku said, smiling his fierce, sharp smile. "I'll make them a squad worthy of dying for him."

"Is he worth dying for, Ikkaku?" Yumichika softly asked him, needing to know.

"Yeah, he is," Ikkaku said, looking up and dropping Yumichika's hand into the water, still loosely held in his own. "He's proud and powerful, and he has his own code of honor that allows for chances, Yumichika. He'd die happily if someone was able to kill him and give him a good fight in the process. So yeah, I think he's worth dying for."

Yumichika smiled at him, lightly plucking his hand free even though that's the last thing he wanted to do. Of course, there were many, _many_ things he did despite the fact that he didn't want to...

"Very well, Ikkaku. If he's worth dying for, then I'll fight for him and have no regrets."

Ikkaku grinned, his sharp teeth bared and his grey eyes crinkling. "There's my Yumichika, eh?! Now, come on, brat - let's get changed and go drinking, yeah?"

* * *

Ryo returned quietly, with a silent watchfulness that Yumichika didn't quite trust. Ikkaku, however, feigned not to notice, and the furor died down without further comment.

Between Ikkaku and Iba, the Squad was quickly put on a regime of drills and exercises to fill their downtime. The other Seated Officers quickly took to the changes and threw themselves into it with the same abandon they showed when fighting, bringing an otherwise rowdy bunch of brutes into a semblance of control and effectiveness.

Yumichika himself took over the tedious duties of the Squad's paperwork - amply sustained and supplemented by the many incident reports generated in the wake of free time. He eventually got everything organized to the point of control, and made discreet inquiries to find an amenable Lieutenant who wouldn't look down his or her nose at a no-Seat member of the Eleventh.

The only one his cautious questions unearthed was one Matsumoto Rangiku, Lieutenant to the Tenth Squad's Captain Shiba.

And Yumichika took one look at her and decided if there were two people in Soul Society who should _never ever_ meet, it was Matsumoto Rangiku and Madarame Ikkaku.

"_Heeeeelllooooooo_! Ah! Are you Yumichika? Someone told me you were coming! Come in! Come in!"

Yumichika closed his eyes for a moment, shook his head, and tried to reassess his first impression, but nothing had improved when his lids lifted.

"Hey, come on!" she cried, waving her arm around like he was her long-lost brother, a huge smile curving her generous lips. Her mouth, though, wasn't the only thing generous about her. She virtually _burst_ from her uniform, an impression that the prim white scarf tied at her throat did nothing to alleviate, especially since some type of necklace chain accentuated the valley between her rather sizeable breasts. Yumichika was immediately put in mind of the Mistress, and took it out furiously on his thumbnail, chewing with a vengeance. "Say, do you drink? Eh? We should go out! You look like you know how to have fun!"

"True," he said, preening a little to cover his frantic thoughts. "But we are _worlds_ apart, are we not? Class distinctions and all..."

She laughed, her blond hair feathering around her jaw in annoyingly lovely half-curls, her bright blue eyes traveling over him with renewed appreciation. She'd gotten his barb but decided to deflect it, saying, "Ah, now, don't be so formal! I know I'm a Lieutenant, but my Captain doesn't like those kinds of distinctions, now does he? He won't mind if you're a nobody! Come in!"

Yumichika stiffened in offenses, his voice clipped and short when he said, "Ah, well, I was told to come to you if I needed help with Squad paperwork, but - "

"You'll have better luck asking me."

Yumichika turned his violet eyes on an equally attractive youth who was still the size of a ten or eleven year old child. It was always so hard to tell age in Soul Society, and it was impolite to make assumptions...besides, surely no child could be so..._grim_?

Matsumoto tittered, waving her hand at the white-haired boy, saying, "_Shiro-kun_! Now, now! He'll get the wrong idea!"

The boy glared at her and tightly said, "He'll get the truth. And it's Third Seat Hitsugaya, Lieutenant Matsumoto." He executed a slight, polite incline of his head at Yumichika to direct his introduction. "If you have questions about the paperwork, I can give you proper instruction."

"Ah, you're no fun," Matsumoto complained, fanning herself and pursing her full lips. "Say! Want to go out later for drinks? Say yes! You have to say yes!"

"We'll see, Lieutenant Matsumoto," Yumichika hedged, not about to accept either her or her consequences.

"She's just fishing for free drinks," Third Seat Hitsugaya announced, bringing an abrupt end to her excited laughter. "You. Come with me."

"Yes, Third Seat Hitsugaya," Yumichika said, bowing prettily to him and quietly thinking that Captain Shiba must have nearly the same organizational ethics as Captain Zaraki. He primly followed in the young man's wake, taking surreptitious looks at the Tenth Squad's area of operations, leaving a deflated Lieutenant Matsumoto behind them.

'_It's so clean_,' he enviously thought, comparing it to the Eleventh's. '_I'll have to get onto those people. This is positively shameful_!'

Third Seat Hitsugaya might be grim, but he was absolutely the best instructor that Yumichika could have asked for, and didn't begrudge him the small notebook he used to take detailed notes on what went where and why. Who needed what and how quickly, what certifications stamps were required where, what documents took precedence over others - these were not things that trial and error could teach, and these were not things that anyone in Squad Eleven had the inclination or the knowledge to perform. In this, at least, he would certainly be able to make an impact for the honor of his Squad and, by association, of Ikkaku.

"Do you have all that?" the Third Seat asked, pinning Yumichika with his unusual, turquoise eyes.

"Yes, Third Seat Hitsugaya," Yumichika said, impressed with his chilly composure. "Thank you very much for your time. I am sure with such instruction, I can hardly go wrong."

"Hm." Those eyes never wavered, prompting Yumichika to return the gaze with his own limpid, expressionless one. "Tell me, Ayasegawa, why is an unseated Squad member doing the work of Eleventh Squad's Lieutenant."

"Now, now, Third Seat Hitsugaya," Yumichika lightly said, smiling his own cool smile. "I am certainly not one to air internal Squad business. Let us merely assume that our Lieutenant Kusajishi is interested in the proper method of conducting her duties but lacks the time to come inquire in person. Unless, of course, I should ask why the Third Seat of Squad Ten is so proficient at doing _his_ Lieutenant's work?"

Hitsugaya blinked, but otherwise didn't react. After a moment of silent scrutiny, he said with a soft sigh of aggravation, "You can go, Ayasegawa. Please contact me if you need any further assistance."

"Thank you, Third Seat Hitsugaya," Yumichika said, meaning it. He stood and bowed, adding, "I can show myself out."

He made his way towards the entrance gate with his notebook tucked securely in his uniform. When he stepped foot outside, however, someone pounced on him.

"_Lieutenant Matsumoto_!" he gasped, shocked to find her clinging to his arm like an overblown barnacle. "What on _earth_?!"

"I'll walk you back!" she offered, her eyes sparkling with a liveliness that was, frankly, quite scary. Her fingers dug into his arm with a firmness that refused any denial, and she took a long step forward, half dragging Yumichika with her. "I've always wanted to see inside there! Ha! What's it like, Yumichika, eh?" Her eyes took on an ornery gleam and she pitched her voice low, asking with obvious relish, "Do they really run around half naked all the time?"

"_What_? No!" Yumichika flared, forgetting to add her title, which apparently didn't bother her in the least. "Who ever said so? We're _men_, not _beasts_!"

She laughed, low and throaty, and tucked her arm companionably through his when Yumichika didn't immediately move to shake her free. Taking the bit between her teeth with the implied permission, she plowed mercilessly back towards the Eleventh Squad's area of operations, busily informing Yumichika on this and that, her bust bouncing so vigorously that he feared it might spill free at any given second.

And he was prepared to return the favor of pouncing in order to get her back in her uniform, _thank you very much_!

"Hello! _Heeeelllloooooo_!" she called, waving again, this time at the startled, staring Squad members who happened to be loitering outside of the gates. "Hi there! Do you know me? Eh?"

"L..._Lieutenant Matsumoto_!" the nearest stammered, not even attempting to disguise the fact that he was staring openly at her quivering bosom.

"_Get back to your duties_!" Yumichika hissed, fire in his eyes.

"Ah, my!" Matsumoto cooed, watching them hasten away. "And here I thought you were nobody! Silly me, I should've known better! That spirit pressure of yours is _something_!"

"No! No it's not," Yumichika corrected her, marching her through the gates because it was far more dignified to do so than to be dragged inside by this obnoxious, unbelievable _female_.

"Hello! Hellooooo! Anyone here want to go drinking?" she called, looking around.

Yumichika resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands when they all came pouring from the four corners of the compound, nearly falling all over each other to accept her offer.

"Haha! You're an eager bunch! How come I've never seen you?!" she asked, adding with irrepressible good humor, "My, my, _what_ a hairdo! Do you do that yourself?"

"Lieutenant Matsumoto," Yumichika said, trying to regain some measure of control and sense in this situation. "_Gentlemen, please_! Lieutenant Matsumoto, _really_! You shouldn't be here! You're a Lieutenant; there isn't anyone here that _you_ should be drinking with!"

"Eh? Who's drinking?"

Yumichika inhaled sharply, and spun to find Ikkaku coming towards them with Iba at his shoulder, the pair of them stalking down an aisle of free space that the Squad members unconsciously provided.

"Hello! Ah, I know _you_! Tetsuzaemon, right? Tetsuzaemon Iba," Matsumoto said, sounding pleased with herself. "President of the Death God Mens' Association, right?"

'_It's a good thing he wears those dark glasses_,' Yumichika thought, seeing the scarlet blush on Iba's cheeks and knowing exactly where the man's eyes currently were fixed.

Ikkaku, however, didn't wear such things, which gave the unfortunate Yumichika a front-row view of his grey eyes critically assessing Matsumoto from toes to scalp, and everything in between.

"Hey, lady," Ikkaku said, his raspy voice hushing the others, his grey eyes hard as flint but still sparking. Yumichika paled, feeling the sick sink of his stomach that he always felt when confronted with Ikkaku's latest conquest. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Er, that's the Tenth Squad's Lieutenant, Matsumoto Rangiku," Iba said in a stage whisper.

To his credit, Ikkaku's expression didn't change one whit.

"Zaraki's Squad Third Seat, Madarame Ikkaku," he said, and when he bared his sharp teeth in his usual pleased grin, Yumichika wearily lifted the white flag in defeat.

Because there was no mistaking it - she was his type, and the look she returned promised everything but discretion.

"So," Ikkaku said, his grin widening. "You want to drink?"

"Ah, well, I _am_ curious about Squad Eleven," she said, smiling at the sea of male faces.

Yumichika unkindly thought that she seemed very pleased to have so many admirers, even if they were merely enamored of her curves.

"_But_, really, I just came to find someone to buy me drinks," she announced, and laughingly gave Yumichika a shake. "My beautiful sister, here, said we should come so I could make some new friends!"

"_Sister_?!" Yumichika hissed, horrified and outraged. "_Lieutenant Matsumoto_!"

Ikkaku laughed and, after a moment, the rest of Squad Eleven joined him, only quieting whenever Ikkaku remarked, "Yeah, well, he doesn't hit like any girl I've ever met, believe me. Come on, we were just going out, weren't we, Yumichika?"

"Yes, Ikkaku," he said, the response automatic. "And I am _not a woman_, Lieutenant!"

"Oh? Well, _that's_ a shame!" she said, and leaned in close to whisper, "What a lucky woman you would be, living here with all these men! Ha!"

"_Please_!" Yumichika said, flipping his hair and tipping his nose up, offended by the suggestion. "How crude!"

"Stop complaining," Ikkaku said, throwing an arm over Yumichika's shoulders and dragging Matsumoto closer in the process. "We're going, right? Come on, Iba. We have a bet on, after all."

The bet turned out to be how many jugs of _sake_ each person could finish off by the end of the night, which was decided by when you passed out or were forced home by the establishment.

Matsumoto was a drinker, and as the night wore on, it became astoundingly apparent to Yumichika that while she flirted and made herself _appear_ to be a lascivious woman intent on seduction, she actually held back from anything untoward. She wanted men to buy her drinks, and if she had to flirt to get them, by heaven and earth, she _would_. But a woman with taste was a dangerous woman, indeed, and Yumichika reluctantly had to admit that the more he got to know her, the more she was Ikkaku in a woman's body.

Of course, if anybody loved Ikkaku as much as Yumichika did, it was Ikkaku himself, so he took to her like a dog to a puddle. Yumichika was almost grateful to be in a drunken stupor when the pair of them suddenly vanished, unremarked in the crowd by all but the slender Death God who sternly reminded himself that he'd made a vow.

'_Well, it isn't the first stupid thing you've done, though it's the only thing to have such awful consequences_...'

Yumichika disguised his start as a hiccup, and fiercely wished that having a Soul Cutter Spirit wasn't so much like having an uninvited guest in one's head at the worst possible times.

'_Nothing helps me more than you sitting in judgement on every little thing I do_,' he retorted, closing his eyes to keep the world from spinning. And maybe, just maybe, he could pretend that Ikkaku was still there next to him, right where he belonged.

'_Oh? Yumichika, _nothing_ you do is little. _Little_ is for regular people, and _regular_ would never describe either one of us_,' the Azure Peacock pointed out. '_If you're going to sulk..._'

The darkness behind his eyes swirled into the Azure Peacock's Garden.

'_You may as well sulk _here.'

Those dispassionate violet eyes watched him from a bed of blooms and feathers while Ruri'iro Kujaku idly pulled a braid of long, inky black hair through his fine, white fingers.

'_Are you ready to be reasonable_?'

"Are you ready to butt out of my business?" Yumichika countered, realizing with dismay that he was certainly drunk, which would in no way help his arguments.

Ruri'iro Kujaku sighed. It was a lovely, telling sigh, if not just a shade melodramatic.

'_I'll choose the subject, then, if you're too out of your wits to make a decision_,' the Azure Peacock offered. '_Madarame Ikkaku._'

The name was enough to send a barb into his heart. There was no better weapon that Ruri'iro Kujaku could use to wound him than _that_.

'_I am a part of you, Yumichika, and you are likewise a part of me_,' the Azure Peacock said, sliding up to sit. It really was artful, the way his loosened kimono cupped his upper arms, baring the tender slopes of his shoulders and the graceful stem of his neck. '_Yumichika...we cannot and _should_ not live at odds with one another. I have graced you with my first release - consider it a gift for birthing me from your soul - but that will be the only gift I grant you. I have honored you with such a gift, and what did I get in return? _Scorn. Disgust. Refusal_. How would you feel, Yumichika, if you offered Ikkaku the gift of your heart and met with such a response?_'

Yumichika looked away, tears filling his eyes. "I would not be such a fool, Ruri'iro Kujaku."

'Bravery_ is not foolishness, Yumichika_,' the Azure Peacock reminded him. '_Had you more confidence in the value of your heart, you would not fear to give it, as I did not fear to give the gift of my first release. If you are not worthy of it is no fault of mine. If he is not worthy of it is no fault of yours.'_

Yumichika took a breath, surprisingly encouraged by the short, impromptu speech.

"Ruri'iro Kujaku," he softly said daring to meet his own violet eyes in that now-familiar face. "I do value the gift you've given me. You are the only one who understands my heart; so, tell me, how can I honor you?"

The Azure Peacock considered him, too much like Yumichika to fool him for long with that cold, reserved demeanor.

'_Wield me as you will, Yumichika, but when there is a chance, _practice_ my first release_,' he admonished. '_If we must both of us live a lie, at least give us the relief of being our true selves when we can. And...it wouldn't hurt if you looked more like me. After all, I have your violet eyes, don't I? It's only fair that you have something of _mine.'

"I already bear your marks," Yumichika reminded him, indicating the scars on his arm and neck. They glowed azure in the Garden, and moved as if they had a life of their own between the layers of his skin.

'_No,'_ Ruri'iro Kujaku said, a thread of warning in his melodious voice. '_You bear _marks_, but those are the result of your stupid reaction to incomprehensible beauty and power - _those_ are not the marks of love, but of ignorance. _These, _I think, will suffice_...'

He leaned closer and traced a long, lacquered nail over Yumichika's right eyebrow, repeating the light, feathering touch along the tips of his eyelashes.

'_A small reminder when you look at that beautiful face of yours that I am always with you, always a part of you. I cannot fathom your love of Madarame Ikkaku, Yumichika; by design, I love and am loyal only to _you_. But if you feel for him a fraction of what I feel for you, then I can understand the madness you willingly thrust yourself into_.'

Yumichika's eyes fluttered open, the right side slightly more weighty. He could see his reflection in the Azure Peacock's eyes, glowing as blue now as his namesake, and saw that he'd been graced with long, luxurious feathers on the lashes of his right eye as well as on his right eyebrow. Just like Ruri'iro Kujaku's.

'_Now, back you go_,' the Azure Peacock said, preening and pleased that Yumichika was preening and pleased. '_I think you'll be glad to find that he's returned...'_

"Hey! _Yumichika_! _Hey_, I said!"

He opened his eyes to Ikkaku vigorously shaking his shoulder, a drunk Matsumoto draped against his side in a boneless heap.

"Come on, help me get her back to her Squad," Ikkaku said, and then paused, a suspicious scowl crossing his handsome features. "Where did those come from?"

Yumichika touched his eyebrow and eyelashes, and felt those feathers tickle his skin.

"Did you sleep with her?" he asked, the words escaping him before his sense could squash them.

"Eh? Answer me!" Ikkaku said, giving him a shake as if Yumichika hadn't heard properly the first time.

"You first," Yumichika shot back, scowling.

Ikkaku looked fairly at a loss, and admitted with a shrug of his shoulders, "Yeah. So? What difference does _that_ make? She prefers girls most of the time, anyway. Now, where did those come from?"

"None of your business," Yumichika sharply said, standing unsteadily, the world spinning a little too much for his comfort. "Which is exactly what you should've told me just now."

"Hey, _hey_! What's this?" Ikkaku loudly demanded, making Yumichika aware that they were virtually alone in the bar, the majority of everyone else having either left or passed out in the meantime. "_You're_ my business, I said, brat! And I'm yours! Why wouldn't I answer you when you ask me, eh? What kind of silly test was _that_? _Stupid_! I tell you everything, Yumichika, damn it! Now, come on, if you're done pouting, you damned brat! Help me get her back to her Squad."

"_You_ wore her out," Yumichika said, the acid tone of his voice shocking even himself. "_You_ take her back!"

"She's _your_ friend," Ikkaku retorted. "You surprised me, Yumichika, showing up with a woman like this. She doesn't seem your style, even if she's pretty."

"Well, as long as she's _your_ type," Yumichika told him, glaring when Matsumoto half-heartedly started a bawdy song, sliding in slow collapse down Ikkaku's side.

"_Stop that_! Don't act so jealous, Yumichika! It makes my head spin!" Ikkaku informed him, his brows knitted together in irritation as he scooped his drooping lily back up to her feet. "I can never figure out if you want them for yourself or _not_, damn it! Now, help me get her back, will you? Then we'll go home and put you to bed, you damned cranky brat."

Yumichika wavered, and relented with a tired sigh, though he was little help to Ikkaku when it came down to it. Actually, it was only once they'd dropped Matsumoto off with the Squad Ten gate guard that Yumichika realized something.

"You didn't need my help, did you?"

Ikkaku slung an arm over his shoulders and tugged him into the warm hollow of his lean body, saying in his low, raspy voice, "Nah, but I didn't want to leave you there alone, Yumichika, and you're too proud to come if I said so."

"I could've walked myself home," Yumichika tartly reminded him, then smiled ruefully whenever Ikkaku laughed.

"Yeah, _right_! You were _sleeping_, you damned brat! HAH! Sleeping like a kid again, curled up on a lumpy futon with bandages all over your skinny back."

"I was never _skinny_," Yumichika haughtily said, and ruined it with a hiccup. "I have _always_ been _thin_!"

"Yeah, yeah," Ikkaku said, fondly ruffling his hair. "Come on, Yumichika - let's get you put to bed, eh?"

They made their slow, staggering way back to Squad Eleven and through the barracks to Ikkaku's room.

"I'm sorry, Ikkaku. I shouldn't have asked you," Yumichika said, more to distract himself from watching Ikkaku fluidly unroll their bedding. He'd shed his uniform down to his _fundoshi_ and the light played on the rippling muscles of his back, making the most interesting patterns that begged to be traced...

_She'd_ probably traced them. She'd probably shaped the contours of Ikkaku's body with her warm, feminine hands and marveled at the power of him.

"Ah? Why?" Task completed, Ikkaku turned to him and untied his clothes for him, peeling Yumichika free as he had when they were kids so long ago.

"I don't know," Yumichika admitted, and laughed a little, embarrassed because he couldn't _say_ why. His mind kept relentlessly working against him - supplying him with images of pure fiction, but so terribly painful in their crisp possibilities. "Please...I'm talking nonsense. Ignore me."

"Nah," Ikkaku said, grinning at him and stepping back, knowing how odd Yumichika was about baring his unclothed body, even before Ikkaku. "I'll never ignore _you_, Yumichika, eh? Get some sleep, brat."

"Ikkaku?" Yumichika asked, gingerly tugging his nightclothes closed around him and tying the sash.

"Hm?"

"Stay with me," Yumichika said, because every time he thought of Matsumoto, he felt the cord that tied them together fray just a little more, and it terrified him.

"I _do_ stay with you," Ikkaku said, and chuckled lowly as he got into bed. "See? Here I am, right with you, Yumichika. I'll take care of you, I said! Now, go to sleep."

Yumichika got into bed, staring at the wall for a long, silent moment. He turned his head to one side and looked at the faint outline of Ikkaku's body on his bed. Softly, numbly, he whispered, "That's not what I meant..."

But all he got in reply was a soft, guileless snore.

* * *

Everyone waited with baited breath for Yumichika to make his move, but it was Iba himself who decided things. The rather odd man sometimes took tea with Yumichika, claiming that he hoped to refine himself a bit more to be appealing to the Captains.

"I'm hoping to make Lieutenant someday, you know," he told Yumichika, holding his teacup with fingers clearly afraid of breaking the fragile porcelain. "There's no hope of that here in _this_ squad - not having to go through Yachiru. Even then, the Captain would just refuse to accept the appointment. There's reasons he favors her, not the least of them being the fact that she's practically his daughter."

"Hm...loosen up that hand, please, Tetsuzaemon," Yumichika admonished. "This tea set is in bad enough shape that we don't need to wrangle the remaining pieces into submission."

"Er, sorry." The man blushed and relaxed his hold, taking a tentative sip. Yumichika felt bad for him sometimes, because despite the fact that he was a powerful fighter and trying hard to round himself out, he often came across as trying _too_ hard to be a cool macho man. While Yumichika had no doubt that Iba was indeed every bit as macho as he appeared to be, it seemed to make people in other squads look down on him, and that was truly too bad. Other squads, he had learned, were very disdainful of Eleven until they needed someone's ass kicked, and then they were beating down the Squad doors, clamouring for help.

"Hey, Yumichika! _Damn it_, Yumichika! Where's my other clothes, eh?!"

They both looked up as Ikkaku came stomping towards them, the terrace vibrating with the force of his bare feet. He was scowling fit to kill someone, with his hands fisted at his hips and his grey eyes shooting sparks.

"I sent them out for washing," Yumichika lightly told him, smoothing his hair. "They were dirty, Ikkaku. It isn't beautiful to wear dirty things."

"Hmph. Hey, what're you two doing?" Ikkaku asked, turning his suspicions to their impromptu gathering.

"Being gentlemen," Yumichika sharply said, glaring at Ikkaku so that he'd take a hint.

"Yeah? Well, when you're done being _gentlemen_," Ikkaku said, nudging Iba with his bare toes. "I'm starving, so let's go eat."

"You could join us," Yumichika suggested, arching an eyebrow at him.

"Er, nah," Ikkaku said, scowling into the distance at a gaggle of squad members before shouting at the top of his impressive lungs, "_What the hell are you guys doing, _eh?! _Didn't I tell you to clean up the training grounds?!_"

He stomped off after them, even though they were fleeing for it, and Yumichika breathed another content sigh, softly shaking his head.

"He doesn't realize he does that, does he?" Iba asked, watching Ikkaku from behind the dark lenses of his glasses.

"What? Shouts?" Yumichika inquired, politely offering to refill Iba's cup. "No, it's natural for him..."

"Not that," Iba said, and seemed to hesitate a little.

"Iba," Yumichika said, though he wasn't usually so informal with the man he'd come to respect. "Please, I feel as if we've come to understand one another, and I respect you as a close associate of Ikkaku's. What did you wish to say just now?"

Because, honestly, it would eat him up with curiosity if he didn't find out, though he'd rather choke than admit such a thing.

"Er, I meant, I meant, he doesn't realize he treats you that way," Iba said, and blushed a bright, rosy pink at his own temerity. "Like a wife instead of a comrade."

Yumichika blinked, his brain skipping for a second, frantically combing his own day-to-day interactions with Ikkaku for signs of just such a thing.

He turned up a good many more than he expected or ever would've noticed. Instead of letting on, he took another sip of his tea and mildly said, "I am sure Ikkaku doesn't see it that way at all. We are merely old friends with a long, shared history. It breeds a certain comfort that is difficult to find with others, or explain to others."

"Ayasegawa," Iba said, placing his cup down with a delicacy that Yumichika silently approved of. "I didn't mean to offend you. It was a thought I should have kept to myself."

"Please, think nothing more of it," Yumichika urged him, smoothing his proverbial ruffled feathers. "I'm sure it's strange to everyone that we share a room. It was bound to spark certain...ugly speculations."

"Well, on the bright side," Iba said, hazarding a smile, which Yumichika returned with beaming warmth. "If you take my Seat, you'll get your own room, and that would put an end to most of it."

Yumichika managed to cover his dismay with another sip of his tea, asking in a conversational tone, "Oh? I'd forgotten that, Iba. My own room. Now, wouldn't _that_ be a treat?"

"Heh, after living with _that_ for so long?" Iba asked, laughingly tipping his head towards Ikkaku, who was enjoying himself beating some obedience into those squad members in the distance. "I'd think it'd be a relief!"

Yumichika laughed with him, thoughtfully sliding his hand through his hair, but his thoughts remained on what Iba had said.

If he took the Fourth Seat from Iba, then he'd have the man's room.

If he had his own room, he'd had to move out of Ikkaku's.

If he moved out of Ikkaku's room...well, _that_ just started a gentle slope of separation which would culminate in a landslide of loss that he simply refused to bear.

"A relief," he murmured, smirking when Ikkaku planted one bare foot on an unsuspecting hind end and sent a startled Death God sprawling. "Yes, I suppose it would be."

It was certainly something to consider.

Now all he had to do was come up with a plausible reason _why_, because Ikkaku would certainly demand one, after all.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Thank you, everyone who is still reading this! And an even bigger thank you to those of you who actually review this story. I had hoped to see more of what everyone thought, but I can only assume by the amount of follows that you all like it fairly well? YumeBaah and Empires, the pair of you are, as always, driving me ever onwards! Thanks so very much for your supportive reviews! And thank you to Johannat and Skyressshun for leaving me reviews as well! I really do appreciate it, everyone! That said, sorry it took so long for the update, I actually write original fiction as well and that was sucking my breath, but here we are, and I hope you like!**_

* * *

"_Yooohoooo_! Yumichika! Hellloooo!"

Yumichika sighed and closed his eyes in resignation when he heard the unmistakable sound of Matsumoto Rangiku's voice.

"_Ah_! There you are!" the woman cried, peeking in through the Captain's door at him, a wide grin on her face. "Come out with me."

"No," Yumichika said, well used to her ways by now. "I don't like you. Besides, Ikkaku isn't here."

"I didn't come for Ikkaku," she informed him, sitting irreverently on the edge of the desk and swinging one shapely leg. "I was bored and I wanted to go shopping, and I thought of you."

"Why on earth?" Yumichika asked, doing his level best to ignore her. "You know I dislike you."

"_You don't_!" she protested, draping one hand over her formidable bosom. "There's nothing to worry about, is there? Didn't Ikkaku tell you? I like women!"

"Ah, what a strange thing to say whenever you worked your wiles on him!"

"_Wiles_? Eh, it was just some fun, he knows that," she said, waving it away. "Maybe we'll do it again, maybe not, either way it doesn't matter, right? Goodness, those bruises, though. I had to sit so carefully, it was hard to explain it to my Captain!"

Yumichika glared at her so hard she _should_ have developed holes. Instead, she opened her wide eyes even wider and asked with mock innocence, "Yumichika? Is _that_ what bothers you about me?"

"_Certainly not_!" he snapped, planting another paper on the pile with force enough to make the stack quiver dangerously.

"You're blushing," Matsumoto gleefully said, giving him a playful poke so that he batted at her finger. "Come _on_! I know you've got to be bored and under-stimulated with all of these dull blockheads around you. Give it a rest and come out with me. I promise I won't make you buy me drinks."

"As if I would ever!" Yumichika said, airily flipping his hair. "_Clearly_ we aren't each other's _type_."

"Yeah," she mused, smirking a little. "You don't have boobs and I'm not bald." She took advantage of his shocked, horrified pause to snag his arm and pull, insisting, "Just for a little while. I wanted to ask you about something. Come on!"

Yumichika wearily gave in, more because he _did_ need a break than anything. Between the endless paperwork and Ikkaku relentlessly questioning both his intentions to challenge and the scars he bore, the slender Death God was ready to have some time away from the Eleventh.

Of course, he could think of better company than Matsumoto, but even Yumichika would admit that there were few people in Soul Society who appreciated a good time better than _she_ did.

"Have you been to the World of the Living?" she asked, her eyes sparkling when she looked at him. It was distracting the way that everything that jiggled and moved on her slender frame seemed to threaten escape with every step.

"Yes, quite a few times during the Academy, like usual," Yumichika said, straightening his back and lifting his chin as they passed into the busier market area of the Court. She was damned near his own height, which bothered him for some reason. "Why?"

"Ah, I just want to go again, it's been so long," she lamented. "I've heard there are all kinds of shops and bars, now! I'd love to just head over there and stay for awhile, but my Captain won't allow it."

"Oh? My impression of Captain Shiba was that he was rather less strict than the others," Yumichika said, wondering.

"_He_ is," Matsumoto said, laughing a little. "But Hitsugaya keeps him in line, and reminds him every time I ask that sending a Lieutenant to the World of the Living is strictly out of the norm. One of these days that kid's going to lose his cool over something, and I hope I'm close enough to see it!"

"Close enough?"

"Well, not _too_ close," she said, giving him a conspiratorial wink. "That Soul Cutter of his is no joke!"

"I've never seen it," Yumichika said, his gaze caught by the display of wares out under shielding awnings. His violet eyes widened, taking it all in. "Oh...my..."

There'd been nothing like this in the sad, dirty districts of Rukongai. All around him were wares and beautiful, wonderful things for sale, and everything was so _clean_...

"See? I knew you'd like this!" Matsumoto gloated. "How come you haven't been here yet?"

"Ikkaku isn't interested in things like this," Yumichika softly, absently said, still absorbed in looking around.

"Well, there's no surprise," Matsumoto said. "You know, Yumichika, I wanted to ask you something."

"What?" he asked, turning to scowl at her for ruining this perfect vision before him. "I'm not saying I'll answer you."

"No, you're not obligated to," she agreed, her blue eyes unusually solemn. But then, she _was_ a Lieutenant, and could be frighteningly serious when she needed to be. "But, Yumichika, I'd like to know why you feel it's necessary to hide the power of your Soul Cutter."

Yumichika covered his shock with a cool smile, and lightly asked, "What on earth are you talking about?"

"Well, it's a kido type, isn't it?" she asked, gesturing faintly at the marks on his chest and neck. They hadn't vanished with the appearance of his feathers, mostly because he had yet to fulfill the other request that Ruri'iro Kujaku had made of him - to practice his shikai in secret as he could. "Those are from failing to control the release of a kido-type Soul Cutter; anyone could tell you that. Melee and other types don't backlash like kido-types can - "

"_Stop_," Yumichika breathed, lifting his hand to cover them and taking a moment to get his panic under control. "Are you telling me that these marks could immediately tell anyone with sense that I wield a kido-type Soul Cutter?"

"Well..._yes_," Matsumoto said, shrugging her shoulders. "At least, any Seated Officer and above could. Clearly the Eleventh Squad has never encountered it, but other Squads have had at least one or two such accidents. I just can't understand why you would join a Squad that has such obvious dislike of any other type of Soul Cutter when it means you'll have to keep it hidden."

"It's not your business," Yumichika quietly said, the ramifications of those marks hitting right where it hurt. "Please...though it's ugly to be in your debt, and even uglier to beg - _please_ don't say anything to anyone."

"Yumichika," she said, her voice deepening with authority, her tone repressive. "Ikkaku isn't stupid. He asked me about those marks and I pretended not to hear him. If you're going to keep such secrets from him, at least keep them out of his notice most of the time. You and I both know that distraction goes a long way towards rerouting him, don't we?"

Yumichika blanched, knowing exactly how a woman like Matsumoto was able to _distract_ Ikkaku.

"Well," he said, his light tone belying his internal agitation. "Lacking your powers of persuasion, I'll have to settle for more subtle means."

"Shiro-kun thinks you have exceptional potential," Matsumoto told him, surprising him out of his brittle coldness. "He also says you're not stupid like the others in that Squad. You'd have a better chance elsewhere, Yumichika."

"I refuse," he said, holding up one delicate hand and shaking his head. "I won't hear of it. I enjoy fighting, and I would rather die than leave Ikkaku."

She grinned, having finally gotten what she wanted, and chucked him once under the chin, offending his dignity.

"That's what I thought!"

"_Lieutenant Matsumoto_!" he gasped, pulling back from her touch.

"_Enough_!" she declared, yanking him around to the nearest shop. "I've had my say, and we know where we stand. We may be rivals, Ayasegawa, but what kind of woman would I be to let that get to me?"

"R..._rivals_?"

She laughed. It was a nice laugh, carefree and irrepressible. Just like Ikkaku's.

Truly, it was hard to resist her charm when she wasn't intent on either needling him or seducing Ikkaku.

"Come on!" she called.

And, sighing, Yumichika went.

* * *

He had to carry the packages, of course - he knew there was some type of catch in going with her, but she was oddly pleasant company, making no more demands on him than that. He was able to browse the wares and long over beautiful things that he had no place for. The small room he shared with Ikkaku was as comfortable as he could make it, but he ached for such beauty all the same.

"Yumichika," Matsumoto said, quivering and bobbing along next to him in a careless saunter that was far more expertly executed than it looked when one wrong move would send her into a severe wardrobe disruption. He wondered why she dressed in such a vulgar manner when she was actually so respectable - an opinion he kept to himself, thank you very much. Still, he figured she probably had secrets of her own, and reasons for such a blatant display of sexuality. Perhaps it was simply easier to distract people with the picture of her perfect form, and let them think her nothing more than a foolish, lazy Lieutenant, and all the while she got whatever it was that she wanted from them without them even realizing...Yes, that was a beautiful idea, and he wasn't certain he was wrong...

"I'll tell you what," she persisted when he didn't reply. "We'll make a game of it."

"Excuse me? A game of what?" he asked, shifting her packages up one arm. Honestly, that one person could purchase so _much_!

"Well, you can't show it, can you?You can't get angry at the others," she said, hedging around her real meaning in the crowd. "But _I_ know, don't I?"

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're speaking of, you mad thing!" Yumichika lied, blushing.

Matsumoto chuckled and said in her low voice, "You can get mad at _me_. You can fight with me and do everything in your power to keep me away, can't you? So, let's make a game of it, so you feel like you're doing something."

"I have no idea what you mean," he said, because this discussion was rapidly becoming dangerous.

"Yumichika," she said, stopping to look at him with a smirk curving her full lips. "We'll play a game of rivals - I'll do my best to chase Ikkaku, and you do everything you can to come between us. I'll be jealous of you, and you can be jealous of me."

"But...but you don't even _like_ him!" Yumichika whispered, glancing wildly around to make sure no one was listening.

"Ah, that," she said, waving her hand a little. "No, he's fine, he's a lot of fun and we fit together well. But he's like me, Yumichika - he doesn't get serious with anyone, and once is usually enough to confirm there's nothing special there. Still, I know if I offered, he'd accept, just because he's not the kind of man to turn someone down."

Yumichika frowned, then quickly corrected his expression, fearing wrinkles might appear at long last. What she suggested was so outside of his experience that he wasn't sure he could do it. Actually have an opportunity to vent to his fullest at one of Ikkaku's conquests? Snipe and sabotage and indulge in the pleasure of petty meanness to soothe the ache in his heart? What would Ikkaku think?

"He'll never allow it," Yumichika said, clearing his throat so that his voice was stronger when he added, "If we start fighting, he'll not see you again. He's done it several times before when the women he's chased have reacted badly to me."

"Then we'll just do it in ways he doesn't notice," she said, grinning. "Come on, Yumichika, what do we have to lose? If he gets angry at the fighting, then he won't see me anymore and that's fine by me - I'll still come pester you regardless. If he doesn't get angry, you have a chance to fight back and I won't mind it. It could be fun! It's been a long time since I've had a rival."

"Matsumoto..." Yumichika just gazed at her for a long moment, trying to puzzle out her reasons as if they might be hiding in the elegant structure of her face. Finally, he was forced to softly ask, "Why are you doing this? I'm no great friend to you. I don't even like you..."

"Ah, of course you do," she said, waving it away again. But then she grew solemn and serious, and said with a measure of distant reflection in her lovely blue eyes, "Actually...it's because I know what it's like to be in your shoes, Yumichika. Loving someone who never sees it, doing your best for them when they never acknowledge it, waiting and waiting for them to just open their eyes and find that you've always been _right there_. Right there, ready to welcome them to the home you've always had ready..."

She smiled then, and shook her head as if to cast off her dark thoughts.

"But they never will, will they?" she asked, and managed a light laugh. "And so we do things to make ourselves feel better, to feel wanted, to feel _needed_. We'll be rivals, Yumichika. We'll see if the distraction works well enough for all of us."

He couldn't help but admire her a little, in an envious and quietly jealous way because unrequited love suited Matsumoto Rangiku in ways that it didn't suit himself.

"Very well, Lieutenant Matsumoto," he said, tipping his head back to give her his haughtiest look. "If you so much as look sideways at Madarame Ikkaku, I will break you like a _twig_."

Her blue eyes widened and she grinned, delighted, responding, "And if you try to get between us, Ayasegawa Yumichika, I will _never_ forgive you! Now, come on, let's get back and have some drinks before the Captain comes back. Maybe Hitsugaya will be around and he can watch us with that repressive, weary disapproval he's been cultivating!"

It was an amusing thought that made him laugh lightly, and he headed off once more, arm in arm with his biggest rival.

* * *

Life in the Eleventh Squad proved physically taxing but, as Matsumoto had suggested, not so provoking of one's intellect. Yumichika distracted himself with the Squad paperwork, which the Captain never once commented on verbally, but he made a point not to come into his office whenever he knew Yumichika was there. The slender Death God wryly figured that he - like Yachiru - didn't want to get roped into doing anything he'd rather not.

With Ikkaku in charge as the Third Seat, Yumichika often found himself in the position of being an honorary Fifth Seat, much to the consternation of the _actual_ Fifth Seat. It gave him an opportunity to assess the man's abilities and see if he could best him without releasing Ruri'iro Kujaku - after all, he wasn't about to get his _own_ room, thank you very much! He was pretty sure he could easily take the man down, but Matsumoto's clear comments left him a little reluctant to put it to the test - until he was positive that he could keep the Azure Peacock under wraps, he wasn't about to do anything that could jeopardize his place at Ikkaku's side.

"Ayasegawa, sir," Koji said, poking his unfortunate, bug-eyed face into the office to see if he was there. "You got a package delivered."

"Oh? How strange." He made a neat stack of what was left and came to fetch it, wondering. Koji gave him a deferential space like most everyone else these days, despite his not being a Seated Officer. His close association with Ikkaku and Iba made them all sure he was hiding some frightening power, and they were hesitant to provoke him.

"Ayasegawa Yumichika?" it was a wide-eyed, rather innocent-looking young man at the gate, staring around with open awe at the bits of the Eleventh revealed through the open gate.

"Yes, I am Ayasegawa," Yumichika said, smoothing his hair. Honestly, strangers made him so uncomfortable, considering he hadn't freshened up first!

"Ah! She said you had feathers! I thought she was teasing me!" the boy declared, closing his eyes in a wide grin. He thrust the package forward with both hands, telling him, "This is for you! Lieutenant Matsumoto insisted I bring it right away! She said you desperately need it! I hope everything is well with you, sir!"

"Thank you," Yumichika said, mystified. He took the package and inclined his head when the boy bowed deeply. "Pleases, convey my gratitude."

"Will do, sir!" With a smart, playful salute, he took off towards the Tenth Squad's area.

Frowning, Yumichika looked up to find a huddle of his fellow Squad members anxiously watching him.

"What?"

"Is everything okay, Ayasegawa, sir?"

"Is it from an admirer, sir?"

"Should we keep it a secret from the Third Seat?"

"_What_?" Yumichika asked, glaring at them. "_Gentlemen_! This is nothing of the sort! Get back to your duties and stop being so infernally _nosy_!"

He stalked away with his nose in the air, distracting them from the presence of that odd package under his slender, lovely arm. He didn't pause or slow down until he reached the room he shared with Ikkaku, and then tore the package open with a frenzy of curiosity.

Bright orange assaulted his vision, a confusing jumble that, at first, appeared to be nothing more than a garishly-colored scarf. He lifted it, utterly confused by the strap and the separate piece, unable to puzzle out its purpose.

"That woman," he hissed, dropping it in his lap to look in the bottom of the box. A neatly-penned note lay among the tissue, and he snatched it up to quickly read it.

_Yumichika,_

_I saw this and thought of you! Aren't I clever?! There were two sleeves, but you only needed the one, and since the other was damaged I got it on discount! YAY! Now, wear these like a good boy and hide those marks of yours. Honestly, you HAVE to get better at keeping secrets. By the way, you owe me some drinks for this! BYE!_

_P.S. Don't you just _love_ this orange! HAHA!_

He could practically _see_ her exaggerated wink in his mind's eye, and reluctantly smiled, moreso when he saw the crude, stick-figure example of how exactly to use this horrid, orange monstrosity.

"Well," he said, his eyes narrowing to slits and a tight smile curving his mouth. "She thinks I can't pull off a little _orange_, does she? Doesn't she realize? Not even _this_ can dim my beauty! Ha! Some rival _she_ is!"

He tugged the thing over his head, wincing as it caught on his feathers. It was light enough not to bother him in the heat, and adequately covered the marks on his chest and throat. The other piece provided a bit of a quandary, but once he slipped it over his forearm, the strap proved loose enough to attach without constraining his movement.

"Where could she have found such a thing?" he wondered, shaking his head as he examined himself in the mirror. Honestly, it wasn't _so_ bad. He could get used to wearing it, and if he pretended the color was just outstandingly beautiful, he was sure that everyone else would accept it on faith, having no sense of their own.

He preened for a bit, turning this way and that to see how it fell in the back, and wishing that it didn't hide the graceful column of his throat. Still, he had to admit that this would make it easier - Ikkaku would only see those marks in the bath and at bedtime. With this to cover them most of the day, he was sure he could inquire about some sort of masking kido for the other times. Pretty soon, Ikkaku would forget he even had them...

"Stupid Matsumoto," he murmured, smiling a little to himself. "Some rival _you_ are..."

Yumichika took one last look at himself and sighed, nodding slightly with approval. Yes, it would work quite well for what he needed, quite well indeed...

* * *

Instead of returning to the Captain's office and continuing his interrupted work, Yumichika settled on the floor in his new, brilliantly orange whatever on earth it was, and drew Ruri'iro Kujaku across his knees in a pose of meditation long since familiar in every respect.

"Listen here, you puffed up peacock," he softly said, closing his eyes and stilling his mind to find the sword spirit's garden. "You and I need to talk."

He got the distinct sensation of being thoroughly ignored, with just enough attention given so that the ignoring part came through loud and clear.

"Ruri'iro Kujaku," he breathed, smoothing his brows when they drew together. "You have a chance to fight someone - will you pass it up in a snit? Are you so vain, self-centered, and willful?"

'_Only as much as _you_ are_,' the sword answered, the beautiful garden unfurling around him like the jeweled tail of the peacock himself. Ruri'iro Kujaku was primly seated and enjoying some tea among the full blossoms of his garden, looking so serene and unruffled that Yumichika knew something drastic was on its way - in that particular, they were too much alike for his comfort.

"Thank you," he said, unwilling to be provoking. "I've decided that we'll challenge the Fifth Seat and I need your word that you won't burst out into kido in the middle of it."

'_That depends_,' Ruri'iro Kujaku said, being altogether too reasonable for a change. '_Will you be able to keep yourself from _dying_? Hm? And why do we have need of this _seat_, Yumichika? I am sure you could get another far prettier_...'

"It is ambition, you prancing capon," Yumichika informed him, his ire rising.

The Azure Peacock's black brows slammed down in time with his teacup. In a tight, humorless voice, he asked, '_What did you just call me_?'

"I want to make it very clear to you, Ruri'iro Kujaku," Yumichika said, pleased now that he'd made his sword as aggravated as he was. "I _understand_ the things you long for - power, beauty, the admiration of others, that incomparable feeling of being _better_ - we are the same in this, though for different reasons. If you do something so silly as to show your release to the men of Squad Eleven, all we'll get is a quick boot out of the door, do you understand? _They can never know about us_! This is no secret from you, this is no surprise. If you control yourself, then I will get us the things we love best, I swear it."

The Azure Peacock stared steadily at him, his anger burning down to consideration.

'_When I move to protect you, Yumichika, do you think it is within my power to _stop?' he asked, the lashes on his violet eyes fluttering prettily, stirring the feathers that tipped them. '_I am not _designed_ for restraint, you ridiculous boy! It is not a Soul Cutter's _job_ to limit themselves. If you want to prevent my first release from emerging, then you will have to restrain me _yourself.'

"Oh? And how on earth would I do that?" Yumichika scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. "Please, you're just being your usual contrary self - "

'_I _am _not using, _have_ not used, and will not _ever use _lies against you, Yumichika_,' Ruri'iro Kujaku coldly told him, drawing up in offense. '_All that I can tell you is this - our pride is the most important thing to us. If one were to wound our pride, then who knows what would happen_?'

Yumichika watched him, searching his beautiful, ageless face for some clue. But all he could think was that whenever his pride was wounded, he immediately withdrew to avoid further pain.

Could such a thing cause his Soul Cutter to react the same way? The Azure Peacock, while brimming with acidic advice on everything in Yumichika's life, was not usually one to loosen his hold on his secrets, but he'd as good as told Yumichika the way to restrain him...

'_He's my own heart, my own self unmindful of the consequences, but he will not allow me to be hurt, not even by himself_...'

"We shall see," Yumichika said aloud, keeping his own council. "_Fuji_ Kujaku."

The Azure Peacock's violet eyes blazed bright, furious blue, and Yumichika was expelled from his garden with all the considerable force of the Soul Cutter's ire. The last words he heard from Ruri'iro Kujaku were, predictably, '_How _dare _you_!'

"Well," Yumichika sighed, opening his eyes with a soft smirk. "At least he didn't disown me."

"Who?" Ikkaku asked, striding in with his brows drawn down in a frown and his kimono layers dangling from the back of his hakama. He was sweaty but unmarked, a sure sign that he'd been training his unit again, and in no good mood to boot. "What're you doing in here? I thought you were doing paperwork today."

"I was having a heart to heart with that sword of mine," Yumichika said, standing and straightening his clothes. "Why are you so aggravated?"

"Those morons," Ikkaku sighed, shrugging the layers loose altogether and rubbing his hand over his bald head. "Sometimes they worry me."

"Don't be so hard on them or yourself," Yumichika urged, plucking the sweaty clothes up from the floor and depositing them away in the woven basket just for that purpose. "They can't help it that they aren't very bright, Ikkaku."

"Nah, not bright, but also not focused," Ikkaku sighed, then, predictably, turned to Yumichika and said, "We could use you in charge of a unit, Yumichika - you know how to get people to do what you want them to."

"Well, what wonderful timing," Yumichika lightly said, affecting an air of calm carelessness. "I'd just decided to challenge the Fifth Seat."

Ikkaku's eyes widened slightly and he cocked his head, considering. "When you said it was decided, I didn't think you were serious," the man said. "You're really not going after Iba?"

"Consider it this way, Ikkaku," Yumichika said, rapidly gathering his arguments. "Tetsuzaemon Iba is a capable leader who does an excellent job training his unit. Do you _really_ want to see him brought down to the lowest member of the Fifteenth Seat unit? _Fifth_ Seat Suzumura, however, I have no qualms displacing. Forcing his way back up the ranks should give him the discipline he needs to adequately hone his leadership ability."

Ikkaku mulled it over, then grinned, pleased with him. "You take so long to decide anything, Yumichika - but I can see why it took time, now! You've really considered this, eh?"

"Ah, well, yes," Yumichika said, then added with an impish smile, "It's the character, though, Ikkaku. As I said, _five_ holds _three_ in its shape, and three is so very beautiful."

Ikkaku snorted with disdain, shaking his head, saying, "If you say so, brat."

'_It is_,' Yumichika thought, fondly watching him struggle with the ties on his hakama. '_Because it's _yours_, Ikkaku. Only because it's yours. And if _I_ was yours, too, I'd be the most beautiful thing in the world_...'

"Stupid Ikkaku," he sighed, reaching out to deftly dismantle the knot at Ikkaku's lean hip. "Tie them correctly the first time, and you don't need to resort to such extremes."

"Ah, you know me, Yumichika," Ikkaku absently said, still working on the other ties. "_Extremes_ are my normal."

Yumichika laughed softly, shaking his head.

"And where'd you get that orange thing?" Ikkaku asked, turning his attention so suddenly that Yumichika found himself taking a step back and turning away to hide the rise of color in his cheeks. It was never easy being around Ikkaku when he was in any state of undress, which he almost always was in one form or another, and this was no exception. For someone so physically beautiful, Ikkaku took absolutely no notice of it. His gracefully formed and exquisitely balanced body was merely a tool to him, a weapon like his sword with the sole purpose of seeking his own death.

"I...isn't it beautiful?" Yumichika asked, distracting him from his question. "I saw the color and couldn't resist. Doesn't it suit me?"

"Most things do," Ikkaku said with a shrug, undressing down to his fundoshi and wrinkling his nose. "Make sure you make your unit bathe, Yumichika - I'm tired of getting onto people about it."

"Oh? Why do you?" Yumichika asked. Ikkaku was a clean person by nature, but he'd never minded the usual ugly scents associated with men exerting themselves.

"How can anyone take us seriously when any one of us walks around stinking like a cesspool, eh?" Ikkaku reasoned. He pulled on a robe to get him to the bath and left, calling over his shoulder, "Don't challenge him while I'm cleaning up, Yumichika, you hear me? I wanna see you fighting. It sure is something when you go all out."

Yumichika pressed his cool hands to his warm cheeks and stifled a soft smile, his heart singing and aching all at once.

* * *

Fifth Seat Suzumura Kazuko wasn't exactly surprised, Yumichika could tell. The bulky, glowering man with the steely glare and wildly styled hair had probably felt this coming ever since Ikkaku took the third seat, but Yumichika had to hand it to him - he still treated it seriously..._eventually_.

"_You_ want to challenge _me_?" he asked, lounging on the terrace next to his unit's barracks room, a contingent of his men around him. He laughed harshly, shortly, and eyed the slender Death God gazing at him with such serenity. "Maybe being close to the Third Seat has made you cocky, Ayasegawa, but you're not Seated Officer material."

"I believe a fight will be the judge of that," Yumichika lightly told him, smoothing his hair. "Come. Delaying out of fear is so _ugly_."

The man's face reddened with offense and he surged to his feet, outraged. "You calling me a coward? _Eh_? Don't think we don't know why you're so _favored_, Ayasegawa! Skill with a blade on the _battlefield_ isn't it, eh?"

The others snickered, and it was all Yumichika could do not show his horror when he realized what they were implying.

"My personal arrangements with Third Seat Madarame are none of your business," he crisply said, shutting them up. "If you refuse to fight me, I'll simply kill you and take your Seat."

"I'm not refusing anything, even if it _is_ the Third Seat's _catamite _doing the asking," Suzumura said, grinning cruelly. "And don't think the threat of him getting pissed off is gonna make me hold back."

"You won't have a chance to _hold back_," Yumichika calmly informed him. "If you don't fight me to the limits of your ability, then you _will_ die."

It was enough of a goad that the man followed him when he turned, the pair of them heading to the training grounds at a measured pace. Already, people from the Fifth Seat's unit were rushing through the Squad compound, spreading the word that Yumichika had finally decided to request a challenge. It took some time for everyone to assemble, and even longer for someone to track down the Captain and Lieutenant, who'd said they were heading to the market and wound up in the complete opposite direction having a snack at a roadside stand.

Yumichika used the time available to him to calm himself, drawing on the peaceful solitude of the Azure Peacock's garden to steady his nerves. It wasn't that he lacked faith in his own ability - after all, he'd been practicing with Ikkaku for time out of mind, and he was undeniably the second strongest man in Zaraki's squad - it was that he feared somehow disappointing Ikkaku in some way. Perhaps his fight would not be beautiful enough, long enough, difficult enough? Perhaps he might win without effort, and Ikkaku would be silently disapproving, wondering why Yumichika didn't draw it out as he would.

'_Ruri'iro Kujaku_,' he silently said, taking a deep breath. '_If I cannot show them the beautiful spread of your plumage, then I will show them the danger of your talons_...'

Surprisingly, he felt the presence of his sword spirit well up from within him, and heard the Azure Peacock's beautifully modulated voice whisper, '_Do your best for us, Yumichika. Do your best for _him...'

"What're you waiting for, eh? An invitation? _Fight already_!" Captain Zaraki shouted, and Yumichika drew his sword.

Suzumura circled him, taller, heavier, with a longer reach. Yumichika had seen his first release only once during a training exercise, and he still wasn't entirely sure what it could do - but like all men in the Eleventh barring Yumichika, Suzumura's weapon was a direct combat type and would deviate very little from that path.

Yumichika took the initiative. He was used to a long reach, having practiced against Hozukimaru's _naginata_ release on countless occasions. Leaping gracefully, he brought his sword down rapidly in one direction, getting the predictable parry, and twisted it downwards to strike at an angle, using the pommel to keep the other weapon at bay.

Blood blossomed on Suzumura's forearm, a fairly deep cut designed to interfere with his swordplay.

Yumichika slid away, catching the parry with his sword, sliding beneath Suzumura's arm to slice a neat seam across his back. Disable, incapacitate, slow - they were teachings imparted by his kido teacher, but he'd always applied them to battle, and his own style adapted well to such things. He'd never been interested in _killing_ when the battle itself was the interesting part. And nothing was more interesting than seeing what a desperate man was capable of.

"I warned you," he said, pulling back a safe distance, his heart slowly picking up its speed. "If you don't fight me to the limits of your ability, then you will die."

"_Damn you_!" Suzumura hissed, bleeding now from two deep wounds. _Power_ was the Third Seat's claim to his throne, not speed or strategy. Suzumura consistently used his larger frame and muscle strength to beat back his opponents, wear them down, and then dispatch them. He was an expert swordsman as all of the Seated Officers of the Eleventh were, but he lacked the advantage that Yumichika had always had - _Ikkaku_.

"You're such a sadist, Yumichika!" Ikkaku shouted, lounging on the sidelines with Iba, sharing a jug of _sake_. "Stop toying with him and get serious!"

Yumichika smiled, pleased that Ikkaku was pleased, feeling the awe and approval of the watching Squad. It bolstered him, feeding the vanity that was really simply an affectation of a little boy named Kanesuke, who'd been sold for the price of a single _kan_...

Suzumura rallied, raining blows down on him that only Yumichika's speed managed to save him from. Suzumura was faster than Ikkaku, but still lacked the sheer force of his numbing hits. Yumichika found that he could catch most of them and stop them with his own wiry strength, which had been honed to a fine edge over all these years. He took openings when he could find them, doing everything in his power to avoid allowing Suzumura's blade to make contact with his beautiful skin.

"You quick little shit," Suzumura growled, panting, leaning into a forceful blow that Yumichika only just barely managed to dodge. "_Quit running around_!"

"And let you cut me? _How ugly_!" Yumichika lightly said, aiming his own strike that Suzumura turned. "I'll not let you put one mark on my beautiful body. Not _one_, do you hear me?"

The more Yumichika was able to push Suzumura, the more interesting it became to see the man's surety replaced with confusion and, eventually, genuine worry. He'd come into this challenge thinking Yumichika was nothing more than Ikkaku's closest friend, favored for that reason alone, and now he was beginning to realize how dangerously close to losing his Seat he truly was.

Desperation was a keen motivator, Yumichika found. Suzumura advanced on him with renewed passion, viciously swinging his sword, growing increasingly incensed whenever Yumichika managed to slip through his guard like smoke and deal him wounds meant to slow him.

Finally, the man was forced to release his sword, running his hand down the blade and growling, "Smash and obliterate, _Kaeruishi_!"

Yumichika pulled back a shade further, warily watching the sword transform. It curled around Suzumura's fists in two hard, metallic gloves, bristling all over with ugly spikes and bumps, like warts on a toad.

"_Hah_!" Suzumura brought his fists together in a shower of sparks and grinned at Yumichika, telling him, "You're had now!"

Yumichika turned up his nose and told him archly, "I will never be had by the likes of _you_!"

There was a murmur of laughter and catcalls through the Squad that Yumichika refused to acknowledge, his attention focused on those change in Suzumura's sword spirit.

He immediately noticed a new power to the man's attacks, and he had more difficulty avoiding being struck by those ugly spikes. A single, unreleased sword was no fitting defense against those rapidly pummeling fists, and he knew it.

'_Here goes nothing,_' he thought, leaping back far enough to breathlessly say, "Bloom, _Fuji Kujaku_."

He'd thought long and hard about the release command, and found that _bloom_ was a fitting homage to that beautiful garden, and enough of a compliment to lessen the sting of the insult that followed.

Ruri'iro Kujaku responded with sullen reluctance, sulkily offering Yumichika a full combat version of his kido release. But where his kido release was a gorgeous spread of feathers like a peacock's tail, _this_ petulant release was of a peacock's least beautiful part - his clawed foot.

'_Ah, how ugly_!' Yumichika silently told him, smirking at the indignant sniff his Soul Cutter aimed his way. '_Is this the best you could do to insult me_?'

'_If you'd rather, I can take it back_,' Ruri'iro Kujaku coldly offered, and Yumichika decided against further antagonizing him. Instead, he brandished the four-bladed weapon as if it was a matter of routine, silently grateful that the spread of blades was wide enough to adequately counter Suzumura's attacks.

He pushed himself, learning as he went, adapting his style to close-range attacks. It took all of his considerable talent to keep from allowing those spiked gloves to land on him, but the thought of even more scars was a powerful motivator, and after a particularly close call to his precious face, Yumichika decided to make an end to it.

"That is quite enough," he announced, spinning beneath the thrust of Suzumura's fist. He took Ruri'iro Kujaku in both hands and brought the sword down with force over Suzumura's unprotected back, quickly followed by another full-strength blow to the neck.

Yumichika hit him deliberately where the blades wouldn't slice his head clean off, but the result was virtually the same. Suzumura staggered away, clutching his neck with one hand, his eyes wild as Yumichika advanced on him.

"You are finished here," Yumichika calmly told him, raking his sword down the man's lifted forearm, driving him to his knees with his force. "Do you yield?"

"_I never yield_!" Suzumura shouted, earning himself another carefully-aimed blow to his other arm, which hung useless in the aftermath.

"Will you die a fool, or live as a wise man?" Yumichika asked him, fully prepared to kill him if needs be.

It was Ikkaku, though, who decided things by calling out, "Yo! Don't kill him, Yumichika! Let him work his way back up, eh? We need strong guys, don't we, Captain?"

Yumichika diverted his attention long enough to see Captain Zaraki watching him with a curious expression on his face. Yumichika couldn't place what it was, but it seemed to land somewhere between suspicion and understanding.

"Do whatever you want," the man said, coming to his feet with Yachiru hanging on his shoulder. "It's only fun whenever both men can fight."

"Captain," Yumichika called, a daring thing to do, in all reality, but his blood was racing and he decided to take a chance. "Do you accept me as the new Fifth Seat?"

"Eh?" Zaraki turned back to skewer him with those unsettling eyes. Suddenly, he grinned and told him, "You earned it, didn't you? Why ask _me_? If you can take it, it's yours."

He stalked off then, the thump of his feet fading with distance.

"You bastard," Suzumura managed, arched over his wounded side, his angry eyes on Yumichika.

"Ah, no, that I can say without a doubt isn't true," Yumichika airly told him, letting Ruri'iro Kujaku revert to his sword form. He daintily wiped the blade on the glowering man's uniform and sheathed it. "You should thank Third Seat Madarame, Suzumura - you're lucky I do as he asks me. You're lucky he's such a close friend, aren't you?"

It felt good to make that man eat his words, and even better to see Ikkaku striding towards him with a wide, wild grin on his beloved face.

"Hey! Yumichika! What did I say, Iba, eh?! In a pinch, he's the one you want!" Ikkaku loudly proclaimed, pleased out of proportion. "Hey, somebody take Suzumura to the relief squad, will you? Get on with it already!"

Yumichika smoothed his hair, hoping he didn't look a mess, and basked in Ikkaku's praise when the man boasted, "See?! Didn't I tell you all that he was strong? _Eh_?! Ha! What a release that is, Yumichika! How long have you been hiding _that_ from me, eh?"

"Oh, not long," he said, which technically was the truth. "I didn't want to seem like I was bragging, Ikkaku. You know how ugly I find it."

Ikkaku just grinned and slung an arm over his shoulder in a good-natured show of solidarity.

"Fifth Seat Ayasegawa," Iba said, bowing slightly with a smile. "I am certainly glad you didn't decide to go for _my_ Seat."

"Ah, you flatter me," Yumichika said, secretly quite pleased. "I didn't realize that Suzumura was quite as weak as all that. It was surprisingly easy to beat him."

Ikkaku gave him an assessing, wary look and Iba stared at him, surprised. Over the noise of the gathered Squad discussing the fight, Iba said, "Ayasegawa...you haven't considered the obvious - Suzumura isn't weak, you're just that strong."

"Brat," Ikkaku called him, laughing at his obvious shock. "You didn't even realize it?! _Eh_?! Hah, Yumichika, you sure are something! How else would you be after all this time with _me_, Yumichika?"

"Stop gloating, you bald idiot," Yumichika warned, turning the idea over in his head. _Was_ it simply that he was that strong? He hadn't even considered such a thing, but Fifth Seat in a direct combat Squad like the Eleventh...perhaps it was true.

Ikkaku just rifled his fingers through Yumichika's hair, bearing the insult with good grace, and proudly said again, "I _told you_! HAH!"

And true or not true, every moment of that battle was worth it just to see Ikkaku's victorious grin.

* * *

As a Seated Officer, Yumichika fell in with Iba and Ikkaku in making the Eleventh Squad one that would do justice to Captain Zaraki. Under pain of Yumichika's sharp disdain and formidable ire, all two hundred plus members got themselves into a semblance of cleanliness and the Squad area was much improved for it. He also spent more time with Ikkaku and, by default, with the Captain, whom he came to regard with growing respect and growing affection. Zaraki was a hard, tough man, but he was oddly intuitive about people and kind in the strangest of ways. Yumichika figured that he, like Ikkaku, simply didn't know any other way, and just did the best he could.

And his squad loved him dearly for it.

Time passed with ease. Missions were taken and accomplished, investigations were done when called for, and the furor of missing Captains and Lieutenants that had taken place before he and Ikkaku joined the Academy became distant, faceless warnings against the dangers of walking too fine a line. Kenpachi himself had walked into the middle of that turbulent time and had killed the previous Captain of the Eleventh Squad, which some detractors said was only due to the fact that everyone was so distracted by the loss of so many officers. Yumichika openly deplored such talk, and didn't mind letting people know that Zaraki didn't _need_ such circumstances to win his victories.

As time passed, however, passed enjoyably enough as Matsumoto's "rival", Yumichika yearned more and more to wield the power of Ruri'iro Kujaku's true form, and decided to finally do as the sword spirit had bidden him.

He would use its true release in secret, away from everyone, and for just a few hours throw off the layers of disguise that he'd wrapped himself in.

Yumichika found his chance on a night when Ikkaku told him he was off to drink with Matsumoto, which also doubled as an invitation for Yumichika to come along if he pleased.

"No, I'll stay in, there are some things I'd like to take care of," Yumichika said, hoping Ikkaku wouldn't sense something was off. The man's instincts were a force to be reckoned with, Yumichika knew.

"_Eh_?" Ikkaku leaned towards him, scowling suspiciously. "You don't want to go? But I said Matsumoto would be there. Any time she's been there, you've always wanted to go. What's wrong? You getting bored sniping at her?"

Yumichika opened his eyes wide, feigning ignorance. "What?"

"_What_, he says," Ikkaku scoffed, shaking his head and laughing softly. "Alright, alright. I'm going, Yumichika. Come along later if you want. She'll be disappointed, you know. I think she likes trying to get to you. I think _both_ of you like it."

"I have no idea what you mean," Yumichika told him, smiling broadly, keeping it pasted on until Ikkaku finally left, casting a half-amused, half-exasperated look over his shoulder as he did so.

Yumichika made himself wait until darkness fully fell before he quietly left their room and slipped from the Court of Pure Souls into Rukongai.

The smells and familiar structures brought a pang of nostalgia, but it wasn't memories he was after. The petite Death God used Flash Step to reach the less traveled, more isolated places where hollows were prone to emerge, and closed his eyes to throw his senses wide. Here among the trees and grass, it was easier for him to pick out the subtle changes in spirit pressure, and by opening his own as wide as possible, he knew he'd make too tempting a bait to be passed by.

'_Ruri'iro Kujaku_,' he said, letting his eyes slit open when he sensed the pressure of a hollow drawing near. '_I am here to do as you asked - teach me to wield your first release with the beauty it was intended for_...'

The hollow came to him, opening its gaping maw to utter that echoing, mournful cry.

"_Split and deviate_," Yumichika breathed, feeling the power flow through him as if from an inexhaustible sea. "_Ruri'iro Kujaku_!"

The sensation was unforgettable, flowing through his entire being as those gorgeous, azure feathers unfurled, reaching for the hollow with unerring accuracy. It felt right and real, like coming home at long last and finding his room waiting for him, perfect and pure. He didn't have to think, or fear, or direct - Ruri'iro Kujaku reacted as an extension of himself, the indefinable essence of his soul reflected outwards, reaching towards what it desired.

The hollow screamed its horrible cry once more, thrashing, but nothing could break the grasp of those feathers. The buds began to appear and swell, blossoming into flowers so heavy with spirit pressure that they were nearly flesh themselves.

'_Pick. Eat_,' Ruri'iro Kujaku murmured, drunk within him, seeping up through his skin, breathing through his nose, speaking through his mouth. '_Harvest its strength and add it to your own, Yumichika. When we eat, we heal. When we eat, we grow stronger. When we eat, we are nothing and everything all at once, a force as unstoppable as the tide._'

Yumichika plucked a flower, watching the hollow vanish into spirit particles, watching those feathers coil and reach, beautiful beyond his ability to comprehend.

Smiling, feeling for the first time that he was truly _himself_, Yumichika brought the flower to his mouth and devoured it, petal by tender, sweet petal.

It was a practice that became a habit of his, slipping out under the cover of darkness to use his first release. It was no difficult task to utilize Ruri'iro Kujaku - the sword was his own soul, and did as he bid, with both of them the better for it. The power he garnered from his forays kept him buoyed for days afterward, increasing his own spirit pressure gradually each time. But even though Ruri'iro Kujaku was pleased to be given such freedom, he did not remove those marks.

'_And what would happen if I did, Yumichika, you darling boy_?' Ruri'iro Kujaku asked, eyes blazing like twin jewels in his pale, lovely face. '_You would _stop_ these forays, would you not? Being freed of those marks is being freed of what little leverage of I have over you, and I'll not sacrifice such a precious thing, thank you very much_!'

Ikkaku never once questioned his absences when they happened to be noticed. Even though the bald warrior would scowl his direction and moodily remark that Yumichika seemed in an especially good mood, he never asked after the cause. He _did_, however, seem to take a particular interest in who Yumichika spent his time with, as if the source of such languid ease was someone closer to the haughty Death God than Ikkaku was comfortable with.

And for some reason, that gave Yumichika almost as much enjoyment as wielding Ruri'iro Kujaku's true release...

Eventually, though, Ikkaku's irrepressible curiosity won out over his pride, and the fierce man finally found a way to ask about it.

Yumichika, for his part, wasn't prepared for it, which might've been what Ikkaku was waiting for. He'd pulled a muscle in his leg the day before in training, and hadn't dealt with it as yet since he'd planned to go out and purify hollows. Those blossoms from the feathers healed all of his injuries, even down to petty aches and pains. Still, it was enough of a nuisance that he rubbed at it absently as he was changing for bed, pausing for a moment mid-dress to work his fingers into the muscle.

'_Don't give me such trouble_,' he warned it, shrugging his robe up over his other shoulder, only half aware of Ikkaku changing across from him. He'd learned to tune it out and busy himself, if only to keep from seeing Ikkaku's bare skin and longing for things even _he_ didn't understand. '_I want to see if those flowers can heal you, damn it_.'

Yumichika turned with a sigh, knotting the sash at his waist as he did so.

Ikkaku's grey eyes slid from him to land somewhere near the door, prompting Yumichika to ask, "Ikkaku? Is something wrong?"

"No," the man said, the defensiveness of his voice warning Yumichika to drop it. There was a light stain of pink on his cheeks, which made Yumichika wonder just what on earth Ikkaku had been looking at...

_Surely_ it wasn't _him_?

He felt an oddly pleasurable flush of excitement to think that Ikkaku had watched him just now and found _something_ that had snared his thoughts. It wasn't difficult to incite desire in a man as hot-blooded as Madarame Ikkaku, but desire wasn't even the least of what Yumichika wanted of him. Still, desire was a good place to start...

He bent and rubbed at his calf again, hoping he made a pretty picture.

"Is your leg still bothering you, Yumichika?" Ikkaku asked, still not looking quite at him.

"Yes," Yumichika said. "But it isn't anything to worry about. I'm too tired to bother going to the Fourth right now."

"Here," Ikkaku said, sitting on his bed and patting his thigh. "Come here, let me work on it for you."

Heart pounding, Yumichika settled next to him on the low pile of bedding and gracefully lifted his leg into Ikkaku's lap, half holding his breath as Ikkaku settled his foot firmly against one corded thigh.

"You don't have to," Yumichika told him, shivering when Ikkaku's strong fingers began to work the tense muscle of his calf.

"Shut up, Yumichika," Ikkaku said, concentrating on his task. "You rub my back and shoulders almost every night, the least I can do for you is this."

Yumichika smiled, modestly tugging the hem of his nightclothes over when his clothing slipped up his bent thigh. He knew he was beautiful, but he knew nothing about seduction or encouragement and realized that a pretty picture had never been enough to tempt Madarame Ikkaku, however shallow he may sometimes seem.

"Yumichika," Ikkaku finally said, focusing on Yumichika's shapely leg, his strong, calloused fingers expertly locating the knot and carefully pressing. "You seem happier lately."

"Happier?" Yumichika asked, leaning back on his braced hands, wondering why he felt as if he could melt right there into a puddle of bliss.

"Yeah," Ikkaku said, concentrating, his black brows drawn together. "Matsumoto, she mentioned that you seem more...at ease."

"I suppose," Yumichika agreed, unsure where Ikkaku was heading with the conversation, and not really caring as long as the man kept touching him.

"Is it _someone_?" Ikkaku asked, giving him a sidelong glance from the corners of his dark grey eyes.

The question was so outlandish and startling that Yumichika could only stare at him in open-mouthed shock, utterly taken aback.

"E..._excuse_ me?" he managed.

"I know you don't talk about things like that," Ikkaku said, reluctant to push him, his fingers working just a little harder with the force of his anxiety. "But it was the only thing I could think of that might make you...you know, _more at ease_."

Yumichika swallowed hard, wondering why he was so shaken. In a soft, low voice he said, "No, Ikkaku. It isn't anyone. There isn't anyone..."

'_No one but _you...'

"No one?" Ikkaku questioned, startled out of his uncertainty, his grey eyes lifting to meet Yumichika's fully. "Even after all this time? _Yumichika_! You _need_ someone, you know! Everyone needs _someone_ now and then, eh? You're a man, after all, and men have _needs_."

"Do they?" Yumichika asked, his comfortable euphoria evaporating in the face of reality. "I wouldn't have guessed by knowing you, would I?"

Ikkaku had the grace to blush lightly, but was as unapologetic as ever regarding his numerous conquests. Grinning, he said, "Ah, yeah, I guess. But really, Yumichika, if it isn't a someone, then what _is_ it?"

"Why does it have to be anything?" Yumichika asked him, aware that Ikkaku had stopped working on his painful muscle and was just sitting there with those calloused hands softly cupping Yumichika's calf.

"What do you mean?" Ikkaku asked, bewildered.

"Why does it have to be anything?" Yumichika repeated, acutely aware of the heat and hardness of Ikkaku's thigh beneath the sole of his foot. It was all he could do to keep from curling his toes into the warm cloth of Ikkaku's nightclothes, an impulse that brought a rosy blush to his cheeks. "Is it so impossible to believe that I'm just happy here, Ikkaku? Happy here with you?"

Ikkaku's grey eyes weighed his response, searching him for a sign of some sort, perhaps, or some indication that Yumichika was too inexperienced to give. After a moment, the man grinned and gave his calf a squeeze, telling him, "Well, you still need to make yourself a friend who's closer to you, Yumichika, eh? Women like Matsumoto, they do wonders for a man's ease."

'Women _like Matsumoto_...'

"I have no desire to be any _closer_ to anyone like that, Ikkaku," Yumichika sharply said, all daydreams and childish imaginings thrust clear out of his head by the ugly reality. But then, when was reality ever _beautiful_? He lifted his foot out of Ikkaku's lap and got to his feet, ignoring the twinge in his leg when he did so. Instead, he flopped down onto his own bedding and gave Ikkaku his back, saying, "It isn't beautiful to say such things, Ikkaku. Please, don't say things like that to me anymore."

There was a long, considering silence from Ikkaku before the man softly said, "Alright, Yumichika. Don't be mad, brat. Don't be _mad_, I said. You do whatever it is that makes you so happy, Yumichika. As long as you're happy, I'm happy."

'_Then why do you make me so sad_?' Yumichika wondered, sorrowfully thinking of what Ikkaku had said. '_The only one I want to be closer to is _you...'

But it would seem that such a thing was never meant to be.

* * *

Yumichika learned, as time passed, that he could bury his longing deeply enough that it didn't feel as if his heart was hemorrhaging every time he looked at the man he loved. Denied any way to get as close to Ikkaku as he desired, he resigned himself to loving Ikkaku with all of his heart, but only from a distance. Though his rivalry with Matsumoto continued, it lost the edge it had started with, and only served to make the beautiful Lieutenant concerned for him in ways that Yumichika couldn't bear. The only thing that relieved him, the only thing that brought him peace were his forays into the wilds and his fevered dreams of what might have been.

Before he could even reckon the time, they'd been serving together under Captain Zaraki for over twenty years, and had helped the man make Squad Eleven a force to be respected as well as reckoned with. Their days at the Academy had faded to distant memories, as had their youth together in the House of Open Roses, so much so that there was a day whenever Yumichika discovered the old scroll casing and, for a frightening moment, could not remember what was inside.

Rumors, however, had a way of living far past the bounds of a man's memory, as Yumichika soon discovered, and his reminder of that fact came in the form of a recent transfer whose paperwork was hardly dry on the Captain's desk.

Yumichika was lounging in the bath, the hot water soothing his aches and pains. He hadn't been able to find Ikkaku anywhere, but that wasn't surprising. He could sense the fluctuation of the man's spirit pressure, though, and assumed that Ikkaku was either training alone or mentoring someone, as was his habit.

He was half-dozing whenever he heard someone approaching, and immediately recognized the undulating, impressive brush of Ikkaku's spirit pressure. Stifling a soft yawn, Yumichika sat up straighter and smoothed his dry hair, smiling at Ikkaku as the man neared.

"Who is this?" Yumichika asked, arching a brow at the shamefaced, tattooed, redheaded young man who appeared behind Ikkaku as he came into the soaking room.

"Abarai Renji," Ikkaku said, cocking a thumb over his shoulder at the man as he whipped his towel off and hung it. "He just got here today."

"Ah, Captain Aizen's troublemaker," Yumichika said with a smirk, delighted when the young man actually blushed. Yumichika had, of course, read the transfer paperwork and knew the details of Abarai's fight. "How did you like the punishment cell?"

"Please forgive the intrusion! I am Abarai Renji, sir!" he said, dipping into a shallow bow, which was a sight when he was only wearing a towel.

"Ayasegawa Yumichika, your Fifth Seat," Yumichika said, preening at the shocked look Renji shot him. "Better hurry, both of you, it's cooling."

Ikkaku had already gotten in, the water sloshing in his wake. He settled in his usual place next to Yumichika and put his head back for a moment as the hot water soothed his aches.

Renji hurriedly joined them, looking uncomfortable and unhappy, his brown eyes lost in thought.

"Is something bothering you, Abarai?" Yumichika asked, seeing something of Ikkaku in the young man despite his polite silence. He had an idea that Renji was merely cowed by a change in circumstances, and that his personality was much, much closer to Ikkaku's, or else he wouldn't have ended up with them in the Eleventh.

"N...no, sir," Renji said, startled. His red hair dripped onto his shoulders, drawn back into a messy, soaked tail at the back of his head.

"Hey, Abarai," Ikkaku lazily said, slitting one grey eye. "Yumichika is interested."

Renji blushed again, which both of them found astoundingly funny in such an intense young man.

"He got separated from his girlfriend."

"_Madarame, sir_!" Renji shouted, his blush a full-on flush now, his cheeks as red at his hair. "She is _not my girlfriend_!"

"Oh? Who?" Yumichika asked, absently reaching for his pumice stone on the shelf behind him.

"Kuchiki Rukia," Ikkaku said with relish, grinning at Renji's obvious discomfort.

"She isn't," Renji insisted, dropping his brown eyes. "She _isn't_. We grew up together. She's like my sister."

"Sister?" Ikkaku repeated. He spied the pumice stone and grabbed it, sitting up in the water to take Yumichika's hand. Even with his attention focused on Yumichika's nails, he still managed to tease Renji with, "Some sister, if you get so worked up about her with another man."

Renji made a soft sound of discomfort but did not respond, clearly caught out.

"I've never seen her," Yumichika said, spreading his fingers for Ikkaku. He didn't even think about how it must seem anymore - rare was the occasion that they didn't bathe together, and even rarer the occasion that Ikkaku didn't ask for the pumice stone. He seemed to consider it a matter of personal pride that a part of Yumichika's beauty was his responsibility. At any rate, Yumichika always felt cherished when Ikkaku tended his fingernails, and he knew it gave the man a measure of comfort as well. They only had each other, and had countless, untold ways to maintain that bond in their daily life, even if it sometimes baffled the people around them.

Like it was baffling Abarai Renji.

"Is something the matter?" Yumichika lightly asked, seeing his bewildered glances.

"Er...no," Renji answered, but he seemed keenly interested in what Ikkaku was doing.

"_What_?" Ikkaku asked, at full volume as always. He paused so as not to accidentally nick one of those perfect nails and glared at Renji. "You have no idea how much Yumichika can complain, no idea how _annoying_ it is! Believe me, Abarai - this is a small price to pay for peace!"

"Oh...yeah," Renji agreed, utterly at a loss.

"You've heard rumors?" Yumichika asked, confirming it by Renji's startled look. "You didn't seem too surprised to see Ikkaku filing my nails for me. It must be a strange sight."

"N...no...I mean, if it suits you to do so, then..." He subsided, thoroughly out of his element.

"You can ask," Yumichika offered, and glanced at Ikkaku for disapproval, but the man only made a low sound of indifference. "I'll answer you. I don't always tolerate questions, especially if they're ugly. Be polite, please, Abarai."

"Did...did Madarame really buy you?" Renji hesitantly asked.

"_Shit_."

Yumichika laughed a little, more at Ikkaku's thunderous expression than Renji's half-panicked stare.

"Yes, he did."

"_Yumichika_," Ikkaku warned, bearing down fiercely on his pinky nail.

"Be gentle with me, Ikkaku," Yumichika softly said, more for Renji's benefit than anything, but it got Ikkaku to roll his eyes a little and it forced the slight tension from his shoulders. "Yes, Ikkaku purchased me for a single _Kan_ - "

"_Two million_!" Ikkaku broke in, pausing again to skewer Renji with a look as though the young man had implied otherwise. "It was _two million_!"

"Don't terrify him, please," Yumichika asked, seeing that Renji was on the verge of retreat. "I see that word has spread in all these years."

Ikkaku laughed a little, his ornery, sarcastic laugh that meant he was less amused than he was irritated.

"So...so it's true that he...he bought you..." Renji hesitantly said, his anxious gaze on Ikkaku. "From the Open Rose?"

"_What_?!" Ikkaku roared, nearly coming unhinged at the mention of Rukongai's infamous whorehouse, the place where they'd spent a year hiding from Yumichika's awful father.

Yumichika dissolved into laughter, pulling his hand away from Ikkaku's to cover his mouth, tears streaming down his face, perfectly horrified and delighted at the way their past had been mingled into a single, odd rumor.

Confronted with a hysterically laughing Yumichika and a murderous Ikkaku, Renji looked ready to spring from the tub and run for it.

"Why you little - "

"Ikkaku! Don't!" Yumichika managed through his laughter, putting a restraining hand on the man's shoulder as he started to rise, clearly set on beating Renji from one end of the bathhouse to the other. "He's only telling us what everyone else is too scared to repeat to our faces."

Ikkaku subsided with a scowl, then grudgingly resumed his work on Yumichika's right hand, drawing it across his body to get the perfect angle.

"So, rumor has it that I was purchased from a whore house?" Yumichika asked, still chuckling. "Well, I'll take it as a compliment to my beauty, then."

"Because you need to be more enamored of your own looks than you already are," Ikkaku growled. "Brat."

"I...Forgive me, Fifth Seat Ayasegawa," Renji fervently said, understanding that he'd erred somewhere in the lines of rumor and truth. "It was the way the story was told to me."

"Well, let's put this rumor to rest," Yumichika sighed, smiling slyly at Abarai, who blushed again, no doubt thinking of what Yumichika may have done as an alleged whore to make Ikkaku buy him outright. "It's true."

"Damn it, Yumichika," Ikkaku lowly said, glaring at him.

"He _did_ purchase me from a great house," Yumichika said, watching it sink in, pleased when Renji's eyes went a little glassy from too much information. "He fought his way through all of the guards to find me - "

"I'm going to kill you later," Ikkaku promised.

" - and burst in just as I was being sold into slavery," Yumichika said, feeling Ikkaku's fingers tighten on his just a little. It was the _truth_, really, it just depended on the context of one's "great house" definition. "He was furious to see me being given to anyone else - "

"You have no _idea _how much I'm going to hurt you later."

"He threw down everything he owned in offer for me, but my master would not release me. Ikkaku threatened to take me and rob the place blind. Furious at losing his revenge against me, my Master sold me to him, and I have followed him faithfully ever since."

Renji stared at them in silent, open-mouthed awe, his brown eyes so wide that the whites showed all around.

"M...Madarame, sir?" he asked, uncertain that Yumichika wasn't just playing him for a fool.

Ikkaku sighed heavily and stared at Yumichika for a long moment before saying, "_Yeah_, it's true."

Renji nearly choked on his surprise.

"But it was _two million, I said_!" Ikkaku snarled. "None of this single _Kan_ bullshit! If you're going to tell the story, tell it right!"

Renji dipped his head in a bow once, and then again, hastening to say, "Madarame, sir! Ayasegawa, sir! Forgive my prying! I won't repeat a word of this story, I promise you!"

"I'll hold you to that," Yumichika purred, pleased to see that blush flare up again. He was such a tender boy, really, for the reputation he'd earned as a scrappy fighter. "Ikkaku and I, we like to be respected. No one would respect me if they thought that I was once a whore."

"No, Ayasegawa, sir! Never think it! Everyone holds you in the highest respect!" Renji said, confirming that everyone had already taken such a story as solid truth. "No man's past is spotless, and everyone knows how devoted you are to Madarame!"

"This'll be a mess," Ikkaku muttered, finishing Yumichika's nails and handing him his pumice stone back. He straightened up and glared at Renji from the bottoms of his eyes, looking fierce enough that Yumichika knew Renji would believe every single word. Ikkaku looked like a man who'd have no trouble fighting his way through a compound of guards to get to his chosen prize. "I'll pound you to dust if you ever bring this up again, understand? Yumichika was kind enough to answer you, but I'm a mean bastard, got it? I'll _pound you_."

"Y...yes, sir!" Renji agreed, and dipped his head to Ikkaku again. "It's no one's business, sir. I'll protect your privacy, I swear to you both!"

"Good," Ikkaku said, and sank back down with his arms folded behind his head to enjoy the warmth of the water. "We'll keep training tomorrow."

"Training?" Yumichika asked, looking back at the chastened young man. "You've been training with Ikkaku?"

"Yes," Renji said. "I need to get stronger. I _have_ to get stronger."

"For her?" Yumichika asked, and smiled at the way Renji blushed.

"He wants to be better than someone," Ikkaku said, happy that the conversation had turned from Yumichika's past to the present. "He asked me to teach him."

"You couldn't find anyone better," Yumichika said. "Who is it?"

"I...I really couldn't say," Renji said, looking unhappy.

"Now, now, Abarai, I've trusted my secrets to you," Yumichika chided. "Can't you tell me this one thing? If Ikkaku knows, he won't tell me - he keeps his secrets. We both do."

"It's...it's Captain Kuchiki," Renji blurted, eager to show that he was a fair man. With a passion that was remarkably similar to Ikkaku's, he added, "I have to be better than him! I have to prove my worth!"

"To her?" Yumichika gently asked, but his only answer was another impressive flush. "Don't lose your resolve, Abarai. Captain Kuchiki is a difficult man to surpass, but I'm sure you'll get there if you stay in Squad Eleven - all we do is fight, so it's the perfect place to hone your skills."

"Thank you, sir!" Renji said, looking vastly relieved.

"Man, I'm sore," Ikkaku said in the sudden silence. "You're not half bad, Renji."

"Not really, sir, but thank you," Renji said. "I know I'll be feeling this come morning."

"Oh?" Yumichika chirped, realizing he had an opportunity to antagonize Renji just a little, all in good fun. "Would you like me to rub your shoulders for you?"

"N...no, th - "

"_Heh_?! _Yumichika_!" Ikkaku shouted, sitting up again to glare at the smaller man. "_I_ said I was sore!"

"Come here," Yumichika said, ignoring Ikkaku to gesture at Renji. "I'm really quite good."

Renji's face turned scarlet. He edged back, feeling along the side of the tub for a good handhold in case he needed to leap out suddenly.

"_I'm sore_, I said!" Ikkaku yelled. "If you're going to go around rubbing shoulders, don't you think you should rub _mine_?!"

"I...I should..."

"Honestly, Ikkaku, don't be so selfish!" Yumichika scolded, pushing him back a little. "I'll get to you in a moment, let me take care of Abarai."

There was a soft splash, and a decidedly empty spot where Renji had just been.

"Oh? Where'd he go?" Yumichika innocently inquired, hearing the soft slap of wet feet hastily running away.

"What difference does it make, _eh_?" Ikkaku demanded. "You're so rude! Making me out to be some kind of crazed pervert rescuing you from death, but then you can't even be bothered to rub my shoulders!"

"Stop yelling, Ikkaku, I was just teasing him," Yumichika said, smiling when Ikkaku finally realized the ploy. "He's really very innocent, isn't he? Turn around, then."

Ikkaku frowned, but gamely turned to present Yumichika with his broad shoulders and lean back.

"Remember when you carried me?" Yumichika asked, starting at the base of his neck where the muscles coiled the tightest.

"Away from the whorehouse, you mean?" Ikkaku grumbled. "Why'd you tell him such a story, Yumichika?"

"Because I want my secrets kept," Yumichika softly told him, feeling the muscle loosen beneath his skilled fingers. "No one can know about my noble blood, Ikkaku. You understand?"

"Yeah, I understand," Ikkaku said, sighing again, his head dropping a bit as he relaxed. "So you'd rather they think you're a whore instead of a Prince? Your pride confounds me, Yumichika."

He worked his way down to Ikkaku's ropey shoulders, thinking about the story he'd spun. He'd had no idea that other people viewed their relationship in a romantic light, but when he thought about it, it actually made more sense than the two of them just being friends. Sense to everybody but _Ikkaku_. Yumichika had loved him and longed for him for so long that he'd been utterly unaware of other people's perception of their duo.

"I didn't know they thought I was your lover," Yumichika softly said, aware of Ikkaku's warmth, _feeling_ the hard muscle shifting and moving beneath his hands, responsive to his touch. He cherished these moments where he could touch Ikkaku without compunction. "I guess I should have expected it, as beautiful as I am."

"They should know your tastes better than to think that," Ikkaku said, hunching forward slightly as Yumichika worked further down his back. "If you were going to be any man's lover, it'd have to be some fussy, prissy nobleman somewhere with lots of manners and money to buy you pretty things. If they thought about it like they should, they'd see that you're too good for the likes of me."

He said it so matter-of-factly, like he'd actually thought it over at some point. Yumichika found himself blushing, wondering if Ikkaku had ever considered him in the same way that he considered the women in his life. He didn't want to be a _woman_ for Ikkaku, but he did want the man's love and respect. Anything would be better than this fretful dreaming, this unfilled desire for something he'd never experienced before.

"That's an unkind thing to say," Yumichika gently told him, though he knew that it was true on the surface. He would demand the best, he always did - and his lovers would be no exception. But that wasn't the reason he'd never had one. It boiled down to the fact that none of them were Ikkaku...

"Sometimes the truth is unkind," Ikkaku reminded him. "It isn't like it matters anyway, Yumichika - let them think what they want, _we_ know the truth, and all that matters to me is the two of us being able to get by."

"How come no one thinks I like women?" Yumichika asked, bewildered. Was he so transparent? But it wasn't as if he liked _men_...only _a_ man.

Ikkaku laughed as if the idea of it was ridiculously silly and said, "What? Because you never tolerate them, that's why. And you don't like competition with your looks. It's hard to be with someone when you're busy dissecting their appearance."

It was troubling how much sense that made. But then, he _had_ always considered women as competition, not as potential mates.

"Do you think Abarai imagines we're in here having sex?"

"_Yumichika_!" Ikkaku said, glaring at him over one shoulder. "Don't say things like that!" He broke into a wry smile, then, and reluctantly admitted, "Yeah, probably."

"Ah, well, at least I'll have plenty of time to work on these knots," Yumichika lightly said, hitting one that made Ikkaku yelp and then sigh. "Such a funny one, that Abarai. I think it will be interesting to see how he gets along."

"Yeah," Ikkaku agreed, leaning forward against the lip of the tub to offer more of his back. "He's got a lot of fire in him. He'll do well."

"You know, you never rub _my _back," Yumichika pointed out, slipping his hands beneath the water to reach the base of Ikkaku's spine and leaning in to get the leverage he needed.

"You don't work as hard as I do," the man shot back, yelping again when he got vengeful fingernails in his skin for his trouble. "You never complain about it, I mean! And I wouldn't know anything about it, anyway - you'd be begging me to stop."

"Hmph, you're just lazy," Yumichika told him, his thoughts circling back to all of his interactions with Ikkaku to date. Had _everyone_ seen them together and automatically assumed that they were involved like _that_? He'd thought such assumptions had died out with familiarity, with the people around them realizing how voracious Ikkaku's appetite was when it came to women. Still, Ikkaku was bossy and tended to lose his temper if people pestered Yumichika or got too nosy with him, but that was due to how protective he was. Still, to anyone else, it might seem like...like jealousy. They rarely went anywhere without each other because they enjoyed one another's company and tended to like the same things in different ways, yet that reluctance to be apart could easily be construed as something more than friendship...even after all of these years...

"How strange," he breathed, wondering why the familiar dips and curves of Ikkaku's flesh seemed so alien to him suddenly, so different somehow. He realized that he'd rested his hands on the man's hips and hadn't moved them, and once he realized it he had no idea how to rescue himself from such an awkward thing.

"Eh? Strange? What is?" Ikkaku asked, either not noticing the hesitation or not minding it, one. "Don't let it bother you, Yumichika. I can set the record straight for everyone, then you won't be known as the poor slave who has to sleep with me."

"What stupid nonsense," Yumichika said, pulling his hands away with a blush. What if he'd done more, though? What if he acted on his desire to always be near Ikkaku? After all, he'd flatly refused to be known as a Prince, and all because he'd known that such a thing would separate the two of them irreversibly. He admired Ikkaku, he longed for his smiles, he lived for his laughter and raged against his regrets. Everything about himself he'd defined by Ikkaku somehow - how to be near him, how to make him happy, how to stay important to him. What on earth had he been trying to achieve? "Let it stand as it is, Ikkaku. I don't mind what they say, I only mind what you think. Does it bother you?"

Ikkaku shrugged, straightening to stretch, his long spine popping.

"It doesn't matter, Yumichika, it's just stupid gossip," he said. "Nothing like that bothers me. If I cared about every rumor, I'd do nothing but pound people. You're not the only one people think I'm sleeping with."

"But I'm the only _man_," Yumichika quietly pointed out, watching Ikkaku rise from the water to get their towels. Would it matter to Ikkaku? Was the body truly so important, or was it the person inside?

"So what?" the man asked, holding his hand out to help Yumichika to his feet. "What kind of difference does _that_ make? It isn't hurting my opportunities. It doesn't matter."

Yumichika took his towel, reflecting to himself as he dried off and wrapped up, oddly aware of Ikkaku beside him. It had never affected him so much since they were boys, but for some reason he found himself blushing at the sight of his friend's nudity, appalled at himself for admiring the play of muscles beneath his tight, pale skin. He'd utterly resigned himself to loving Ikkaku from a distance...hadn't he?

"You okay?" Ikkaku asked, his towel draped over his shoulder because modesty wasn't something he ever considered necessary. He was utterly unselfconscious about his body - it was neither here nor there to him; as long as he could fight then he was happy. Yumichika wished _he_ could be so carefree about his appearance, but he wouldn't be naked in front of anyone but Ikkaku for fear that they might find some flaw in his beauty.

"I'm fine."

"Why is your face so pink? You get too hot?" Ikkaku asked, urging Yumichika to walk towards the changing room.

"I'm off-kilter is all," Yumichika said, gliding smoothly towards the changing room. "I can't believe they all think we're lovers."

"Hey, _hey_! If it bothers you so much I'll tell them the _truth_, I said!" Ikkaku loudly reminded him, irritated by Yumichika's implied disgust with their situation. "Gods forbid you get dirty on _my_ account, damn it, you damned brat!"

"Don't get so angry!" Yumichika said, surprised at his heat. "I told you it doesn't bother me like that. There's nothing wrong with you, Ikkaku, it isn't like _that_ hurts my feelings."

"Oh," Ikkaku said, but still looked grouchy. "It had _better_ not be! What a stupid conversation! Shut up!"

"I haven't said anything else!" Yumichika mildly said, puzzled. "Let's just forget about it, it's ridiculous at every turn."

"_Fine_."

They changed in silence, Yumichika making a concerted effort not to look at Ikkaku too much, suddenly shy of his own body again after all of these years together.

"Look, I don't know what's bothering you really," Ikkaku suddenly said, pausing in the act of tying his bathing clothes to pin Yumichika with a look. "But you either tell me or stop it, because I don't like getting the silent treatment from you."

"It's nothing," Yumichika said, able to meet his gaze without blushing. He was someone completely new out of nowhere, simply because of what others had said. He was a handsome, attractive someone whom Yumichika knew like his own soul, but suddenly felt far, far removed from. "I'm just thinking about it now. That's all."

"Thinking about _what_?" Ikkaku sourly demanded, finished tying his clothes closed.

"About what Renji said," Yumichika softly told him, a little hurt to realize that Ikkaku had already forgotten about it.

"Well _stop it_, I said!" Ikkaku demanded. "I don't like seeing you frown so much, Yumichika, you know that! It's just a stupid rumor, quit letting it upset you."

Yumichika realized then that Ikkaku was reading him wrong, not because he was determined to misunderstand, but simply because of some insecurity on his part. Ikkaku thought that Yumichika was just _that_ disgusted by the idea of being his lover, that the thought of it was distracting him in a negative way, not in a positive one. _That_ was why he was so eager to drop it and not mention it again, because it seemed to hurt his pride that Yumichika was so put off by it.

"Ikkaku..." Yumichika said, relieved that _he_ wasn't disgusted by it.

"Just forget about it, no one will say anything in front of you anyway," Ikkaku told him. "Come on, let's go."

Yumichika almost called him back, then, but hesitated. If it was a matter of Ikkaku's pride, then simply telling him that he wouldn't mind would do nothing more than alleviate his mood. It wouldn't mean that Ikkaku would seriously entertain the notion of...of being with him.

'_Is this the moment_?' Yumichika thought, struck by the thought. '_Is it _finally_ safe to tell him the way that I feel and see if he feels the same way about me? To ask him if I could be the person he _loves?'

Ikkaku paused just outside of the bathhouse and looked back at him, the moonlight catching his grey eyes in a gleam of silver.

'Yes,' Yumichika thought, nearly breathless with fear and joy to finally _act _on what was in his heart. '_I've always known, I've just been too afraid to tell him, too afraid that I would lose him. I'd rather die than lose him, he means so much to me, but I will risk it, I will tell him..._'

"...Yumichika?" Ikkaku asked, his voice full of unsure inquiry, something in Yumichika's expression perhaps betraying his fevered thoughts. Ikkaku took a step towards him and Yumichika's heart leapt up in his throat. He started to open his arms, to offer the shelter of his embrace, to bare that place where Ikkaku would fit with perfection simply because it had been prepared only for him.

"Ikkaku!"

"Hey, Ikkaku! You doing something?"

"Hey, Madarame! Ayasegawa! Wanna go drinking?"

Yumichika's heart sank when those voices pierced the silence, distracting Ikkaku, breaking the spell that had sprung up between them. Just like that it was gone, and his arms dropped to his sides as Ikkaku looked away, rather bewildered and unsure.

"Sure," he said, grinning at their fellow squad members. "Come on, Yumichika, let's go get changed. We'll meet you guys there."

"Great! See you then!"

"It's always more fun with those two, they know how to have a good time!"

Yumichika watched them balefully, angry that his chance had slipped away. Ikkaku's back was to him now, shutting him out, denying what had just occurred, his shoulders tight with tension that warned Yumichika to leave it alone. He was uncertain and on his guard, and Yumichika knew that his moment had passed and would never come again. Ikkaku would never allow himself to be so vulnerable again, even when caught off-guard as he just had been. He would never give Yumichika a chance to tell him _no_, to deny him, to make him a fool. It was simply how Ikkaku was and Yumichika knew it. That single instance when he hadn't had a chance to realize what was happening, that had been it, and it had been soured by the appearance of those buffoons.

Yumichika fell into step beside him, and Ikkaku walked silently back to their barracks room.

"I'll stay here," Yumichika said, moving to unroll his futon and prepare his blankets.

"You sure?" Ikkaku asked, changing out of his bathing clothes. "They asked for you."

"They'll live," Yumichika said, settling down with a sigh. "Ikkaku..."

"Eh?"

"You truly are my best friend."

The man smiled, then, all sins forgiven. "I know, Yumichika. And you're mine, you know that. See ya."

He was gone like a wraith, vanishing, off for a night of drinking and fun.

'_You're mine_...' My best friend, he'd meant, but the wording still warmed Yumichika.

He found that he couldn't sleep, instead his thoughts swirled in his head, distracting him, teasing him. What if he had truly touched him? Would Ikkaku have pushed him away? Been disgusted? Been confused? Or would he have minded at all? Ikkaku had never shown an inclination to sleep with another man, but women tended to be near at hand and plentiful, eager to share a night in his bed.

And if everyone thought that Yumichika was Ikkaku's lover, then what did that make _him_?

A laughingstock, that's what. Because Ikkaku spent more time in other beds than he ever spent in his own, being a man of strong urges and plenty of stamina.

He sat up, pressing a hand to his chest to stifle the uncomfortable sharpness of pain there. It was horrifying to think that others thought him pitiful, routinely cuckolded. He imagined himself as a long-suffering housewife that everyone whispered about, pitying but disgusted with all the same for letting a man treat him with such disrespect.

"Oh! That is _insufferable_!"

He flung himself out of bed and stormed out of the barracks in just his nightclothes and bare feet, blazing a trail to the popular watering hole that Squad Eleven tended to frequent, usually with Squad Eight in willing tow. A loud roar of raucous laughter greeted him as he pushed his way through the crowd, jostling his way to the center of things, where Ikkaku always was. Iba, of course, was there, always happy to goad Ikkaku to greater idiocy. And Ikkaku was standing drunkenly in the center of a small open space, strangely enough with his eyes covered in a blindfold.

"_Next_!"

At first Yumichika thought he was sparring, but that was quickly alleviated when an unfamiliar female Death God stepped up to him. She giggled when Ikkaku wrapped her tightly in his arms and buried his nose in her neck.

"Chihiro!" Ikkaku shouted, apparently guessing who she was, and there was another roar of approval. The girl tipped a _sake_ jug to his mouth and poured a generous measure in.

Ikkaku staggered back, wiped his mouth, and said, "_Next_!"

"Honestly!" Yumichika snarled, determined now to just put an end to the rumors altogether because it was simply shameful to think that people thought him cheated on with such cheap, classless women!

The squad members around him recognized him and drew back, uncertain, looking fairly caught out and ashamed of themselves.

Growling a little, Yumichika strode into the clearing and took a stance, opening his mouth to inform them all that he was _not_ and had _never been_ Madarame Ikkaku's lover, and so they could _stop_ feeling sorry for him, _thank you very much!_

A rough hand on his shoulder spun him around and he found himself pressed against Ikkaku's chest with the man's face buried in his neck and both capable hands firmly squeezing his backside.

The crowd fell utterly silent.

"_Yumichika_?!" Ikkaku shouted, letting go of one pert cheek to wrench the blindfold off of his eyes, shocked.

"Oh, _now_ you've done it," Yumichika hissed, a glance around the room confirming that every last set of eyes was on them. He reared back and slapped Ikkaku to snap him out of it, wrenched away from that offending hand, and frostily said, "How dare you!"

He turned around and flounced off, shocked when the gathered squads broke into cheers and laughter, some of them shouting, "You show 'em, Ayasegawa, sir!" and "Way to go! High time!"

"Hmph!"

There was no undoing _that_ damage. No one would believe in a thousand years that a man would recognize him so quickly under such conditions _without_ having been regularly touching him. Familiarity had not worked in their favor, and no denying it on either of their parts would still tongues now.

"Yu...Yumichika! Wait!"

"I will _not_!" he said, striding away while Ikkaku stumbled after him, far too drunk to still be standing, let alone still be drinking.

"Wait, _wait_, I said!" Ikkaku shouted, part of the crowd coming after him. _That_ was what stopped Yumichika, the presence of those other people. He couldn't be seen running away from his own best friend, how would that look? Instead, he backtracked and steadied Ikkaku, who still sported a florid print of Yumichika's hand on his cheek.

"Why'd you hit me?"

"You were being an ass," Yumichika told him, and to the others he said, "Go on! He's fine, I'll put him to bed."

There were appreciative chuckles and rather more annoying catcalls, but Yumichika tried to ignore them.

"Why are they laughing?" Ikkaku asked. "Did I lose?"

"Only your dignity," Yumichika told him, bearing up under his arm to help him stagger down the street. "How on earth did you know it was me?"

"You're the only one who smells like home," Ikkaku slurred, a bucket of ice water on the fire of Yumichika's anger. His body was warm as a brand against Yumichika's side, lean and powerful. "I should've..._hic_...should've known who you were before I even got hold of you. That scent of yours is distinctive."

"What an ugly game to play," Yumichika said, blushing.

Ikkaku shrugged as much as he could with an arm over Yumichika's shoulders and said, "Yeah, it's pretty stupid, but we tend to do stupid stuff when we drink."

"You were enjoying yourself."

"What's not to enjoy?" Ikkaku asked, and chuckled. "The more girls I play that game with, the better my chances are of getting luh-_key_."

Yumichika ducked out from under his arm in an instant, and Ikkaku sank like a stone, sourly shouting, "Hey!"

"Keep yourself company," Yumichika lightly told him. "Maybe one of your ugly girlfriends will come take you home. I'm not bothering with you if you're going to be vulgar."

"_Yumichika_!"

"I'm leaving," he said, and stalked off far more calmly than he felt, his heart trembling with anger that Ikkaku would use _that_ word, that word he'd first coined trying to make Yumichika smile. How _dare_ he apply it to those shameless hussies? "_Idiot_!"

He ended up going back to the bath, thanks to his dirty feet. Ikkaku wasn't where he left him, and Yumichika didn't dare imagine _where_ he'd wound up or else he chanced getting riled all over again. He ended the night lying in his bed, crying silent tears to help alleviate the ache in his heart and wondering what awful thing he'd ever done to be cursed with loving Madarame Ikkaku.

* * *

Morning came, and with it his wayward friend. Yumichika had a habit of rising before dawn to freshen up, then nap until he felt ready to face another day. During his face-care routine, Ikkaku came weaving his way in, unsteady thanks to his hangover.

"My, my, you must've kept drinking last night to be so bad off," Yumichika softly said, refusing to even _think_ about where Ikkaku had been or else he'd likely feel furious, and fury wasn't an emotion that paired well with his delicate coloring.

"What choice did I have?" Ikkaku complained, collapsing on Yumichika's bed because his own was still folded up. In a fit of pique Yumichika hadn't prepared it for him as he usually did. "Iba found me and we went back. I woke up on the floor just now."

"Stupid." He said it to cover his relief, glad that Ikkaku hadn't spent the night in a strange bed after all.

"_What choice did I have_, I said?!" Ikkaku shouted, and winced. "Am I a man? Iba said I couldn't keep up with him, I had to prove him wrong!"

"Or else the world would've stopped entirely, I'm sure," Yumichika observed, rubbing lotion onto his face with gentle motions. "Get in your own bed, please."

"Why are you being so mean, Yumichika, eh?" Ikkaku asked, rolling onto his side to watch his friend and feebly struggling out of his clothes, the knot frustrating his clumsy fingers.

"Because you've made me angry, you oaf," Yumichika told him.

"Eh? What now?" Ikkaku asked, and gave up with a sigh. "My head hurts."

"It's your own fault, stupid," Yumichika said, finished with his routine. He put everything away and slid across the floor to glare at Ikkaku. It was an effort utterly wasted on the man, who only slit one grey eye to lazily ask, "Can you get this knot for me?"

"You truly take advantage of my friendship," Yumichika informed him, but gamely set to undoing the knot.

"I don't mean to," Ikkaku said, and hiccupped. "You take care of me, too, Yumichika - I got used to it. Don't be mad at me to expect it."

"Arrogant ass," Yumichika sighed, helping him undress to his white fundoshi. He helped him slip beneath the blanket and smoothed it over his broad chest, gazing down at him with his heart pounding hard. Ikkaku looked disarmingly innocent, drunk and tired as he was - the familiar lines between his eyes had smoothed, and his mouth was loose and relaxed instead of pulled tight with irritation. He could barely keep his eyes open, but he still managed to smile at Yumichika.

"See?" he rasped, shifting in the comfort of Yumichika's bed. "You like taking care of me, just like I like taking care of you. We're good for each other, yeah?"

"Yes," Yumichika agreed, smoothing his hand over Ikkaku's warm brow, enjoying the way the man sighed and relaxed at his touch. "Very good for each other."

"Yumichika?"

"Hm?"

"Don't be mad at me, I don't like it," Ikkaku murmured, quickly slipping towards sleep. "I don't like it, I said..."

"I heard you," Yumichika whispered, stroking his cheek and jaw until the man's breath evened out in a deep sleep. Only once Ikkaku was lightly snoring did Yumichika reluctantly pull away and tend to Ikkaku's discarded clothing. They stank of smoke and _sake_, so he draped it all on the railing outside to air it until it could be laundered. That done, he unrolled Ikkaku's bedding and settled to sleep, comforted by the scent of Ikkaku's body on the material - musky and male, but not unpleasant, and oh so familiar.

'_You're the only one who smells like home_...'

He snuggled down into Ikkaku's bed and slid into easy sleep, comforted by the scent he'd never realized had always meant he was home.


	16. Chapter 16

_**It took me a long time to decide if I would flesh this story out through the many happenings of the manga or not and I decided in the interests of length to shoot over it. This story was intended to show how the pair of them began after all, and my ultimate goal is to bring them together. Forgive me if it offends, but there was simply too much to stuff into this story, and so I skip. I would like to say thank you to Lovely Loree for showing such amazing support of this story - I am grateful that you think it adds to the richness of Yumichika fanfiction out there :) ! Also my sincere thanks to bm313, the ever-beloved empires and YumeBaah, shinigami1nabe, mspris, and Johannat. You all are the best for leaving me feedback, it goes a long way towards encouraging me to continue and bring this story to its natural conclusion. twinshadows, thank you as well and I hope to hear from you again. It surprised me to hear that you found this story on tumblr, I had no idea anyone had mentioned it. Thank you!**_

* * *

"Ikkaku? What is it?" Yumichika asked, realizing that the bald warrior was pacing before the Captain's desk, hands on his lean hips and his brows drawn down in a scowl. Usually he wasn't so obviously irate, prompting Yumichika to ask, "Did something happen?"

"Abarai Renji," Ikkaku said, making Yumichika pause in his work and look up, concerned. Abarai idolized Ikkaku and took every opportunity to involve himself in Ikkaku's messes, to the point that Ikkaku had given the scrappy youth a place in his unit. "That damned kid!"

"What's he done, now?" Yumichika asked, rising and pushing the Captain's chair back in place so that he could move in front of Ikkaku, blocking his restless pacing. "Surely it can be dealt with?"

"He asked me about my _bankai_," Ikkaku said, shocking Yumichika.

"W...what? How on earth?" he asked, confused. Ikkaku had reached _bankai_ over twelve years ago, but the only person he'd ever shown was Yumichika himself. He'd been thoroughly impressed by it, as he should be, and yet still saddened by how strongly Ikkaku's past influenced him, made obvious by the opposing blades - one a monk's spade, and the other a standard soldier's blade, reflecting the disparate facets of his nature. "Ikkaku, you don't think I've _told_ him - "

"_What_? _No_, Yumichika!" Ikkaku flared, utterly taken aback. "Don't be stupid! Don't be _stupid_, I said! I know you'd never do anything like that, don't I? You've always been the best person to keep secrets!"

Ikkaku calmed, his gaze softening when it fell on Yumichika's concerned face.

"I didn't come here to accuse you, Yumichika," he said, his voice low, now. "I came here to ask you if you remember anything strange about when we were heading out that night?"

"What?" Yumichika wracked his memory, focusing on that night when Ikkaku had insisted he come out and see a big secret, something serious, something he could never tell anyone... "Ah. I remember, now. It felt like someone was there."

"But you couldn't tell who it was?" Ikkaku clarified, frowning.

Yumichika shook his head, saying, "No, Ikkaku. I couldn't tell who it was. So. You think someone _did_ follow us?"

"Eh, maybe," Ikkaku sighed, shrugging. "I guess it isn't the kind of secret that could keep, anyway."

Yumichika didn't have the heart to tell him that those types of secrets _refused_ to be kept. Ikkaku's spirit pressure was monstrous and those in his squad knew exactly how monstrous it truly was. If they _did_ know about his _bankai_, most likely it was a Squad secret and only served to make them more proud of their leaders than they already were.

"I wouldn't worry about it, Ikkaku," he finally settled on, laying a delicate hand on the man's tense shoulder, preening when he felt Ikkaku relax under his touch. "Squad Eleven respects you too much to go spilling your secrets, and they respect you too much to go against your wishes. If you have _bankai_ and you choose not to share it, why then it is only one more thing that makes you even stronger."

Ikkaku laughed softly, sighing, "Yeah, I guess you're right. I just don't like the idea of anyone but you knowing about it, that's all."

"And Abarai was so sure?"

"Sure enough that he asked me to teach him how to achieve his own," Ikkaku said, and then added at a higher volume, "As if I would do _that_! Heh! Teach that brat before I get _you_ to _bankai_! What a thought! That damned kid!"

Yumichika suppressed a smile, hiding it quickly when Ikkaku swung around to face him.

"You still don't want to?"

"No," Yumichika sighed, flipping his hair. "_Fuji Kujaku_ is temperamental, vain, self-centered, and petty; there's no way he'd tolerate it. He'll reveal his secrets in his own time, and that's fine by me."

"Hm. You wouldn't think he'd be so different from Hozukimaru," Ikkaku commented, eyeing Yumichika for any sign of reaction. "Considering he's a combat type and all."

"Oh?" Yumichika asked, widening his eyes.

Ikkaku laughed, shaking his head, knowing better than to press whenever Yumichika played ignorant of something.

"Abarai is going to challenge the Sixth Seat soon," Ikkaku said, changing the subject.

"Do you think he'll win?" Yumichika asked, falling into step beside him as Ikkaku headed out.

"Yeah," Ikkaku said, raising his head to look out over the spread of the Squad Eleven training grounds, content and at home. "He's strong. And he's driven by ambition, Yumichika. You know a little about that, don't you?"

Yumichika shrugged elegantly, smiling. "Will he challenge me?"

"Nah," Ikkaku said, and sounded remarkably reluctant when he added, "His style doesn't suit yours, Yumichika. He respects you too much to try it, and he's too smart to ask for a fight he can't win."

Yumichika couldn't prevent the flush of pleasure that comment afforded him, and pressed his hand to his rosy cheek for a moment of indulgence. He briefly wondered if Ikkaku had influenced Abarai's decision, but it was unlike the bald warrior to use his friendship with Yumichika in such a way. Ikkaku's faith in him was as deep and fathomless as the sea - he'd never doubt that Yumichika could kick anyone's ass, and that was a fact.

"Well, he _is_ beautiful," Yumichika sighed, meaning it. Renji was vastly adorable in his reactions, and as fierce as Ikkaku with his same reckless temperament. "It would be a shame to shatter his ego with my Soul Cutter."

"_Beautiful_, eh?" Ikkaku repeated, eyeing him warily. Strangely, he told Yumichika, "He's planning on marrying that Kuchiki girl some day."

"Oh? How lovely," Yumichika said, bewildered by the change in subject. "She sounds frightful, though. I can't imagine _anyone_ wanting to marry into that family."

Ikkaku made a low sound in his throat that could've been amusement or exasperation, one.

"Come on, brat," he said, heading in the direction of the market district. "You've been in that office too long; it's started to affect your brain."

"Ikkaku..."

"Eh?"

"Your _bankai_," Yumichika said, his thoughts dwelling on its amazing power and impressive size. "Did you mean it? What you said to me?"

'_Nah, Yumichika, I won't be using it. Not now, not ever. Not if it means I'd be out of Zaraki's Squad_...'

"Yeah, Yumichika," Ikkaku said, his grey eyes hooding in a way that always made Yumichika's heart speed up. "I meant it."

"Not even to save yourself?" he softly asked.

Ikkaku's eyes darkened, then, and he said in a raspy purr, "Not even to save myself."

And he meant it.

Over the course of roughly forty years there were ample opportunities for Ikkaku to use his _bankai_ to great effect, but not once did he ever put it to use. Matsumoto's beloved Captain Shiba vanished without any trace and Hitsugaya rose to take his place. Abarai Renji took the Sixth seat and then, like Iba, went on to take a Lieutenant's appointment in another squad. Yumichika and Ikkaku both had offers, discreetly made and quietly conducted by other Lieutenants, but both of them refused until it became understood that neither of them would ever leave Zaraki's Squad.

It drove Matsumoto to distraction, and many an hour was spent over jugs of _sake_ with her lamenting his terrible sense, both in fashion and otherwise. Yumichika merely bore it, as he did most things.

Nothing was too great a sacrifice for the sake of Madarame Ikkaku.

Those sacrifices, however, never did the one thing that Yumichika always hoped they would - they never got him any closer to Ikkaku.

And so he spent more time roaming the furthest reaches of Rukongai, a lone Death God making a pretty target for soul-hungry Hollows.

'_You are more beautiful this way_,' Ruri'iro Kujaku murmured, drifting in the air next to him, the azure light of those feathery vines illuminating his pearly skin and shimmering kimono. '_We both are more beautiful this way_...'

"What good is a beauty no one can ever witness?" Yumichika wondered, watching the vines twirl and coil lazily.

'_Yumichika...I have learned a thing or two of Madarame Ikkaku in all of these years, and one thing has always stood out to me_,' the Azure Peacock told him, turning his head in a pretty swirl of loose, inky-black hair accented by tiny braids laced with feathers. '_He has never once disparaged any kind of true power he's seen. Once he understood the nature of kido, he never chided you for its use. When he's seen other types of Soul Cutters at work, he's been quick to praise their abilities if they warranted praise. Why do you think he would be any less impressed with me_?'

Yumichika realized with a pang that he wasn't the _only_ one who desired Ikkaku's acceptance. Ruri'iro Kujaku was born from his soul, and like himself he craved acknowledgement by Ikkaku - acknowledgement of his strength and power, acknowledgement of his _worth_.

'_You have long since left your childhood behind, Yumichika_,' Ruri'iro Kujaku breathed, his voice echoing in Yumichika's mind. '_But you will _always_ be Prince Ichigawa Kanesuke, sold for a single _Kan_, unless you can accept yourself as you are. Deep inside, you are still a frightened, unsure, powerless little boy terrified of being abandoned once more_...'

Yumichika closed his eyes, his sword reverting to its normal shape, taking the Azure Peacock with it. Though they hurt, those words were true and he knew it. He'd lived a lie so long that even the thought of showing his true self made his heart start to pound with terror.

'_Is your faith in him so insignificant that you think he'd turn from you for _this?'

It left him breathless with the force of his upset, realizing that at the heart of it all was his own doubt in the strength of Ikkaku's loyalty to him. What kind of man spent so many years defending, supporting, and simply _being_ with someone else only to turn on them over something so unimportant in the end? Would their friendship truly be shattered simply by the type of Soul Cutter Yumichika wielded?

'_No_,' he thought, shaking his head. '_But I'd be out of Squad Zaraki, and I'd be separated from Ikkaku. He might understand, but we'd be distanced from one another and I'd lose him all the same_.'

And so he kept his secret from everyone, except for Matsumoto - who had guessed so long ago - and Captain Hitsugaya, who never let even a hint cross his frosty lips.

The tedium of time between battles was relieved by the appearance of a boy neither Yumichika nor Ikkaku ever dreamed would eventually bring such changes to Soul Society - Kurosaki Ichigo, the kid with a Shiba's face and an unsettling amount of spirit power liable to erupt at any random time. He cut a swathe of destruction through Soul Society that impressed even Ikkaku, who'd had the misfortune of experiencing that power surge himself.

So much. So much, from Aizen's betrayal clear through to his fall, and everything in between. There were time when he felt Death wrap its hands around Ikkaku's soul and squeeze tight, times when his absence seemed to rob the man he loved of the luck he'd always claimed Yumichika brought him. But each time Ikkaku managed to escape, managed to live, and celebrate it with a rash of behavior that always brought Yumichika to tears.

Like all things, however, the furor died down, leaving Yumichika older but not wiser, jaded by truth but robbed of understanding by desire. He wondered how he could have spent his life in such a way, but then Ikkaku would smile at him, and it would start all over again, the traitorous trembling of his heart.

Until the night it all came crashing down.

There was nothing out of the ordinary about the night it happened. The Captain was off with the Lieutenant, about his usual untold business and, predictably, in exactly the opposite direction he'd intended. Word had come to them of a slight disturbance in the area of Rukongai that the Eleventh Squad held under their protection, and Ikkaku decided to deal with it.

"I'll come," Yumichika said, rising to do just that.

"Nah, you stay here and keep my unit in line," Ikkaku ordered, pulling his uniform back on and sliding Hozukimaru into place. "I'm going to take the idiots from the fifteenth unit and take care of this."

"Are you sure?" Yumichika asked, the only one in the Squad besides the Captain and Lieutenant who dared to question him. But by habit all new recruits were automatically put into unit fifteen under rotating unit command in order to hone their skills. They had a passion for fighting but lacked much else, in Yumichika's opinion, until battle and time hardened them.

"Yeah, it'll be fine," Ikkaku said, shrugging a little and grinning at Yumichika, an ornery gleam in his eyes. "Or you doubt I can make up what they lack?"

"Stupid Ikkaku," Yumichika breathed, smoothing his hair, which he still kept short and enjoyed bringing to Ikkaku's attention at every possible opportunity. "Get going. And you call _me_ vain, ha! Begging for compliments isn't beautiful."

Ikkaku just laughed and took off, saying offhandedly, "See ya, Yumichika."

'_See ya, Yumichika_...' He never thought _those_ would be among the last words they would speak to one another.

Hours passed in work as the night waxed on, and Yumichika made good use of his time to get caught up, but Ikkaku was not far from his thoughts. A nagging, unsettling discomfort niggled at his awareness, disrupting him with unease. It plagued him enough that he could hardly concentrate. He was weary and considering going on to bed whenever he heard a ruckus kick up at the gates, a group of men shouting and hollering, and the frightening shout of, "_Fifth Seat Ayasegawa! Fifth Seat Ayasegawa_!"

He ran for the gates, abandoning any pretense of disaffection. He was brutally reminded of that time in the Open Rose whenever he'd been tricked into the garden by the idea of Ikkaku being harmed...

But he knew _this_ time, there was no ploy.

"What is it? What's happened? Where is Ikkaku?!"

"Fifth Seat," the man moaned, a bloodied and half-insensible member of the fifteenth unit. "You have to go help him!"

"What? What happened?" Yumichika demanded, hefting the man up by his clothing. "Where is Ikkaku?!"

"Fighting," the man said, coughing up a gout of blood. "Still fighting. He told us to get back, but it's too strong..."

He slumped, bringing stunned, shocked silence to those who had gathered.

Yumichika straightened, feeling the ice that had flooded his heart slide out into his veins.

"Where is the Captain?"

"Not back, yet, Fifth Seat, sir," he was told.

"Send word to him what has happened," Yumichika ordered. "My unit will stay here at the disposal of the Commander General along with the other units. Send a report to the Commander General's office that there is potential danger in our district, but that we're taking care of it and we'll report again when the issue is resolved."

"S...Sir?" one of his men asked, hesitating to cross him. "You intend to go alone? Against something that has beaten Third Seat Madar - "

"Be silent," he tightly ordered, fire rising in his eyes. "Third Seat Madarame has _not_ lost, nor will he. I do not intend to assist him, do not suddenly become a _fool_!"

They stared at him wide-eyed, their faith their Squad rapidly rising in witnessing his certainty.

"I will go and gather those of the fifteenth who have yet to wander back," Yumichika told them, refusing to let them see how deeply, horribly _terrified_ he was for Ikkaku. That nagging worry had blossomed into true horror, and he knew it. "Considering they can barely find their way back from the bars, I am not surprised that they are still missing. Now, I want _everyone_ to get to their posts and back to their business, and let me attend to mine."

There was pain in some of their gazes, mostly in the men of his own unit, who took his own dedication to Ikkaku as personally and as seriously as he did. He didn't distract himself wondering what they thought of him, rushing off like a worried housewife, but he did see their worry for him, and their desire to aid him.

"Stay here, as ordered," he repeated to them. "I am Third Seat Madarame's Lucky Charm, am I not?"

"Yes, Fifth Seat Ayasegawa," the lot of them agreed, and hastened to do as he bid them.

Yumichika closed his eyes for a moment, getting his bearings, and then headed out in the direction that Ikkaku had gone, his senses flung wide to seek Ikkaku's spirit pressure.

'_This is the moment we have feared all of our lives_,' the Azure Peacock whispered, sheer dread in his beautiful voice.

Yumichika didn't have the ability to deny him...not when his heart told him the very same thing.

Ikkaku's ebbing spirit pressure drew him further into the wilderness, far past any reasonable bounds of their Squad's control. The other men of the fifteenth had scattered like rabbits, he could feel them some distance behind him, heading steadily but slowly back towards the Court of Pure Souls. It was Ikkaku he feared for, Ikkaku facing some monstrosity of perverted spirit pressure that roiled and pounded even moreso than Captain Zaraki's. It made Edrad Liones' spirit force feel like the flutter of moth wings. Yumichika had never felt anything so powerful but the power was erratic, bursting in huge gouts like blood from a severed artery. Whatever it was, it had neither the taste of a Hollow nor the control of a sentient creature - it felt like pure fury, unadulterated and uncontrolled.

Yumichika put on speed, frightened because Ikkaku could only stand against such a force with _equal_ force, and he would never be persuaded to release it again, not since his secret had escaped the first time. He could already tell that Ikkaku had pushed himself past the normal bounds of even his impressive spirit power, and now fought on sheer stubborn obstinance.

They'd blasted a crater in the ground from the strength of their battle, Ikkaku and that unnatural _thing_ - a huge wound of raw earth surrounded by scorched trees and bare rock.

Yumichika paused on the lip, gasping for breath, his hand pressing to the ache in his heart.

Ikkaku was grinning, damn him. Grinning and eager to continue, even though he swayed on his feet like a drunk, bleeding and bruised. Yumichika could see the pain he had drawing breath, the short way he panted, the forward curve of his belly to protect ribs that had already been shattered. Blood had painted his face a horror, broken only by the whiteness of his sharp grin and the glowing silver gleams of his eyes.

The monster he faced was a monster, indeed, a living embodiment of Kido and soured spirit pressure, of Hollow and rage. Such a mixture was never meant to happen, never intended by any rational creature and was, no doubt, the residue of some long-ago experiment done by Soul Society before they learned better. Who knew how long it had been out here, nurtured by the spirit particles that formed everything, adding to its mass by absorbing Hollows and hapless denizens of Rukongai alike? It took no form he could recognize outside of _light_ - a flare of spirit pressure, all types of kido, with only the malicious intent to take, to devour, to _live_...

"Ah, Yumichika," Ikkaku said, his voice rough and raspy, barely audible above the strange, unsettling whirl and howl of that monster looming so hugely before him. "I knew you'd make it in time..."

Yumichika's wide eyes took in Hozukimaru, splintered into countless pieces at Ikkaku's feet, only the spear portion of its three sections held tightly in Ikkaku's hand. His clothing was shredded and burned, the results of a fight that had raged for hours, depleting his spirit pressure to the point of exhausting him. Still...still, he was compelled to ask in a tearful, pained whisper, "In time for what?"

Ikkaku just grinned, using the last of his strength to drive Hozukimaru deep into the pulsing mire of that monster.

"_No_!" Yumichika cried, watching in horror as it flung Ikkaku like a ragdoll away from it, opening a deep, deadly gash from his chest all the way down to his groin, exposing bone and things that the light should never reveal. He landed in a splatter of blood, limp and lifeless, his sword falling from his loose hand.

"_Nnnnnnnnnnnnoooooooooooooooo_!"

Rational thought fled, and fear was not far behind it. Yumichika rushed over the lip of the crater before that thing could move towards Ikkaku and make him a part of whatever abortion it actually was.

"Ikkaku!" Yumichika sobbed, flinging himself down next to the man's body, frantically trying to heal him.

But it wouldn't work, not with Ikkaku so terribly close to death. All he could do was stave off the inevitable, and that was not healing.

"Nononononononononooooooooo..."

He arched over him, weeping brokenheartedly, every particle of his being refusing to accept that Ikkaku was gone. He'd been so foolishly certain that he could stand aside and dispassionately watch Ikkaku go to his chosen end, but the reality was nowhere near that. Ikkaku's grey eyes were half open and blank, empty of the life and miraculous vigor that was Madarame Ikkaku. Everything that had made him the man Yumichika loved had already fled, leaving only this ruined flesh behind.

And here he was, covered in Ikkaku's blood and weeping fit to be sick, and every piece of his soul wanting only to go where Ikkaku went, as he always had...

'_Yumichika...Yumichika, do not forget yourself_,' the Azure Peacock's voice softly whispered, refusing to let him abandon himself to despair. '_Yumichika...you know what I can do. If you will free me on this creature, I will show you how to save him...but there is always a price..._'

"I don't care," Yumichika moaned, feeling the searing heat and electricity of that monster approaching, demanding the tribute of Ikkaku's broken body, wanting to devour him away. He lifted his head and wiped his eyes, pinning that thing with his gaze. He knew what his Soul Cutter spoke of - forbidden Kido, the kind that demanded sacrifice. "The direct transition of another soul? I am not afraid."

He drew Ruri'iro Kujaku in a flare of azure light, not even having to speak the words. The Azure Peacock bloomed out and reached, twining and coiling, snaring that approaching monster in its feathery vines. The creature resisted, the tangle of vines confounding it, sucking away its substance as it had drained so many others, opposing it as no mere blade ever could.

"You will not take my heart from me," Yumichika wept, his eyes blazing blue and running with tears, but his hand steady on his blade all the same. "I would rather die than lose Ikkaku..."

The blossoms began to swell, and Ruri'iro Kujaku murmured within, '_Pull the power into yourself, Yumichika. Pull its life force into your own, and let it bloom from your heart..._'

Yumichika pulled, and it flowed up those vines to swell in his chest, those buds subsiding, the power gathering in his aching heart instead. He felt it blossom inside of him like the most beautiful and brilliant of flowers, dimming the creature before him, rupturing the force that held it together and rending it to pieces that were harmless without the whole.

'_When you pluck this flower, Yumichika, you will have only moments to feed it between Ikkaku's lips_,' the Azure Peacock murmured, his sadness as great as Yumichika's, but for far different reasons.

'_And why only moments_?' Yumichika asked, needing to hear the truth.

'_Because death will have _you_ in his stead_,' Ruri'iro Kujaku said. '_This is my last gift to you, Yumichika - one of my greatest powers is this reversal, but like all self-sacrificing kido, it can only be used once._'

"Once is all I need," Yumichika breathed, turning in the sudden darkness to kneel beside Ikkaku. The only light was from the coiling vines of the Azure Peacock, and the bloom that he plucked from his heart. He pressed its glow between Ikkaku's lax lips, watching it dissolve and take his own life with it.

"I love you," he whispered, cradling Ikkaku's head in his lap, growing weaker by second as the man absorbed his own life force along with that of the monster that had killed him. Tears flowed from his eyes and painted rivulets of azure-tinted vines down Ikkaku's face, mingling with the blood there. With the last breath he could muster, Yumichika breathed, "_It was worth it, Madarame Ikkaku...every moment, every single second was worth it_...'

Those grey eyes filled once more with the force that was Madarame Ikkaku, _seeing_ Yumichika with the vines of the Azure Peacock drifting behind him like a beautiful, fanning tail, betraying his secret at long last.

"Y...Yumichika?"

He fell with a sigh over Ikkaku's warm body, content that he had finally followed his heart and triumphed.

* * *

Death was not what Yumichika expected it to be.

It was _noisy_, for one, full of hissing whispers and rough voices.

It was only when he was awkwardly jostled that Yumichika realized he was _alive_.

Alive and being manhandled by the men from his unit.

"_What are you doing_?" he hissed, putting up sudden and unexpected resistance that surprised them into dropping him.

"Fifth Seat Ayasegawa! Forgive us!"

They cowered to a man, which was absurd considering that Yumichika was sprawled on the bare ground with his wide, shocked eyes taking everything in.

'_How am I alive? What happened? _Ikkaku!'

"_Where is Ikkaku_?!" he demanded, his heart lurching with fear.

"On his way to the Fourth Squad already, Fifth Seat!" he was told, none of them daring to lift their heads as yet, not when their beloved unit leader was still raising his voice. "The Captain told half of us to take Third Seat Madarame directly there and the other half to bring you back to our Squad, Fifth Seat Ayasegawa, sir! We waited as long as we dared for you to wake, sir, I'm sorry!"

"The Captain was here?" Yumichika asked, unable to process everything all at once. He turned his face from them, trying to gather his wits, his frantic thoughts fluttering like so many butterflies.

'_That monster we defeated had more to give than we thought it would_,' the Azure Peacock said, sounding very satisfied with himself. '_We did not expect to live, Yumichika. What a strong and beautiful boy you are_...'

"Ikkaku lives," he breathed, tears of relief spilling over, and he didn't care who saw them. "_Ikkaku lives_!"

"Y...yes, Fifth Seat, sir," his second in command said, hesitant to interrupt. "He has survived this time, but barely."

_This time_.

Yumichika's relief died swiftly, taking all of his hope and happiness with it. Yes, he had managed to wrangle Madarame back into Soul Society through forbidden kido, and had miraculously survived it, but for what? Ikkaku had no idea that he'd done such a thing, and would only continue to seek death with the same zeal he had always shown.

And, worse, he'd seen Yumichika's sword for what it truly was.

"Fifth Seat Ayasegawa, sir?" More of them dared to look, their concern overriding their strict adherence to his sense of propriety. "Sir? Are you ill? Are you wounded?"

"I will live," he whispered, wondering why it sounded like a curse instead of a blessing. "How did you know to come?"

"Er...the man you sent after the Captain found him and Lieutenant Kusajishi here with you and the Third Seat, sir," he was told. "The Captain himself sent orders for us to collect the pair of you. He left along with Third Seat Madarame - "

"Please, I can walk," Yumichika said, rising unsteadily to his feet. He had closed his eyes thinking he'd never do such a thing again, and had made the sacrifice gladly. He'd given himself to death in Ikkaku's place and death had, with its own perverse sense of humor, tossed him back to face the consequences of his actions. The full impact of what he'd done was rapidly overcoming his relief that he'd managed to save Ikkaku's life. He felt exposed, alone, empty, facing a future where Ikkaku would still die, but view him differently all the same. In fact, he would surely be forced out of Squad Zaraki if the Captain himself had arrived in time to see his first release in full bloom... "I need to go see Ikkaku."

"Yes, Fifth Seat Ayasegawa," they said as one, hastening to bow. "We assumed you would, sir! The Captain himself is heading back under the Lieutenant's guidance."

Yumichika lifted his stricken gaze to stare at his men, surprised that they would show him such affection.

"In other words, sir," his second clarified with a slight smile. "We figure you have until mid-morning to get back to the Squad before he gets there, sir."

"Thank you," he breathed, genuinely touched. He'd never tried to befriend them, but he'd earned their respect with his own actions and had won their support the same way that Ikkaku had won over the entire Squad. "Let's go."

"Yes, sir!"

They made good time, crossing the Captain's trail along the way where he'd veered decidedly off course. Dawn was threatening to break, as surely as Yumichika's heart, but he would not allow himself to think too deeply about it. He had to see Ikkaku first. He had to be sure that the man would survive.

His men split off at the Court of Pure Souls, promising to send word if the Captain happened to arrive before he did.

And so, alone, Yumichika quietly entered the Fourth Squad's hospital, uncertain of his welcome and silently sick at heart.

"Fifth Seat Ayasegawa, welcome."

Captain Unohana glided up like a ghost, just as quiet and just as serene. She gave him a soft smile and asked, "Are you here for Third Seat Madarame?"

"Y...yes, Captain Unohana," he answered, wondering if she could sense his turmoil. She was a powerful healer, and had the kind of perception that was as frightening as precognition. "May I see him?'

Lieutenant Kotetsu was a tall and anxious shadow just behind her shoulder, but remained silent and solemn as he was shown to the room where Ikkaku lay.

She had worked miracles in the short time that Ikkaku had been here, drawing his flesh closed and making him comfortable. He was wrapped in bandages from chest to thighs, pale and still in such a way that Yumichika flinched, seeing blood and gore behind his eyes.

"You saved him," he whispered, trembling.

"No, I cannot claim that," Captain Unohana gently demurred, standing calmly next to him. "Quite curiously, Third Seat Madarame was already healed when he arrived. Due to the unusual circumstances, I came to assess him myself to be sure that he was properly healing."

"And?" Yumichika asked, his voice sounding small and fragile to his own ears.

"And he has suffered very serious wounds that would normally kill even a Death God," she answered. "However, upon inspection, the wounds appear to be several days healed, and healing correctly. Come, Isane."

Yumichika drew closer to the bed and touched Ikkaku's cheek, his fingers shaking. He was more weakened than he'd thought by what had happened, and knew he should have gone straight back to gather his strength, but he had to make sure. He had to see Ikkaku alive and well, if not whole.

Yet this entire ordeal essentially changed nothing in the end, did it?

'_It's never going to be okay, is it? There's only one way this can end, and I know now that I don't have the strength to see it through...'_

Tears filled his violet eyes as he stood there gazing down at Ikkaku's still, virtually lifeless body.

"No more," he whispered, the flutter of his lashes sending trails of silver down his perfect skin. The admission was akin to ripping his own beating heart out of his chest, but at least with it gone it would no longer pain him. "As far as you're concerned, you're already dead. What kind of mad fool am I to cling so tightly to a corpse?"

The tremors turned into a shudder and he covered his face, delayed shock and terror taking their toll. But behind his closed lids all he could see was blood, sheared flesh, and those empty, sightless eyes...

"Yumichika?"

He straightened, startled when Matsumoto said his name. He spun to find her in the doorway, concern filling her light blue eyes, her lovely face set in a compassion that his abused heart couldn't stand for.

"I came as soon as I heard," she said, drawing closer warily, not sure what to expect. "I figured you'd be here with him..."

"I can't do this anymore," he choked, his words coming out as a harsh, trembling whisper that cracked on tears. He hugged himself, restraining a sob of pain from sheer stubbornness. "I can't..."

"Yumichika," she softly said, looking as if she'd like to reach out and comfort him, but knowing him too well for that.

"I can't watch him die," he admitted, the foundations of his soul rocked by the admission that made his entire life a lie. "I _love_ him! I _can't watch him die_, I just can't bear it!"

"Why should you have to?" she asked, her soft tone ripe with compassion and warmth.

"Rangiku," Yumichika said, reining it all in, forcing it all back, compressing it back into the hole of his heart to fill the emptiness. "Please...when he dies...will you make sure no one tells me?"

Her eyes held his for a long moment, the whole of their strange friendship passing unspoken between them.

"Of course," she said, the authority of her voice making it a solemn promise as a Lieutenant. "I'll make sure, Yumichika."

"Do what you can for him," Yumichika said, and took a shaky breath to add, "Since I won't be able to anymore..."

"But where will you go?" she asked, her worry returning with full force.

Yumichika shook his head, unable to speak for a moment, the pain was so deep and breathtaking.

"Yumichika..."

"It doesn't matter," he said, finding his voice on a gasp, shaking his head again with force to clear the tears. "I'll make arrangements with my brothers and transfer to the Stealth Force, or even the Kido Corps. Honestly, it doesn't matter..."

Because without Ikkaku, he had no reason for anything, no reason for _being_.

Rangiku just nodded once, and quietly said, "If that's what has to happen, then I'll do what I can to help both of you."

"Thank you," he said, and took one last, longing look at Ikkaku, trying to stuff his memory full to keep him company during his loneliness. But...he'd always been lonely anyway, loving Ikkaku as he did. One-sided love was very lonely, indeed...

Impending loss made him brave and careless. Regardless of the fact that Rangiku was there, Yumichika bent to stroke Ikkaku's hollow cheek, and leaned over him to press a long, lingering kiss to his cold, clammy forehead, his tears flowing down to roll over Ikkaku's pale skin.

"I love you," he whispered, knowing that Ikkaku couldn't hear him, but needing to say it all the same. "Please, don't waste your life, Ikkaku - you're worth so much, you don't even know..."

He tore himself away before his pain could make him even more foolish, and forced his feet to trace the path back to the room he'd shared with Ikkaku for so long.


	17. Chapter 17!

_**This has to be the most rewritten chapter thus far. I have about five different versions of this chapter, but this is the one that felt closest to what I was wanting. Grrr, I still don't know, but I could waver between them forever, so I made up my mind and finished/polished this version. It may or may not change in the future...probably not, since I'm lazy. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! And remember, if you follow or even like my stories, be sure to go bookmark my livejournal page from my profile, because if I get deleted off of here, I'll put everything up there. Thanks!**_

* * *

Wearied by his long, sleepless night and exhausted by his worry, Yumichika shed his clothing, intending to try for a little sleep. He paused, however, on his way to bed and reached out to smooth Ikkaku's bedding, which he'd prepared for the man before he'd left the night before.

"You can take care of yourself, Ikkaku," he whispered, saddened because Ikkaku had never needed him the way that he himself had needed Ikkaku. Trying very hard not to think about what he was doing, he got into Ikkaku's bed and finally fell into troubled slumber.

His respite only lasted a few hours before he made himself get up. Yumichika knew if he didn't do this right away, he'd never be able to do it at all.

The Captain was in his office, which was usual for him in the early afternoon. They had an unspoken agreement on timelines - Yumichika had free rein to do what he could, and then he would leave a stack of papers that the Captain would sign in the morning, or else leave carefully written instructions for. They both made very sure not to cross paths, Yumichika out of respect, and the Captain out of his reluctance to get dragged into it anymore than was required.

"Captain Zaraki, may I come in?" Yumichika asked, composing himself.

"What is it?"

Yumichika took that for agreement and let himself in, closing the door quietly behind him.

Lieutenant Kusajishi was, oddly, not with the Captain. Perhaps she had gone to make a report of her own, as Yumichika had promised would happen.

Captain Zaraki's unusual, unsettling eyes picked apart his appearance. Yumichika still found him intimidating, through no fault of Zaraki's - he was just a big, glowering, powerful man and radiated a kind of dangerous instability that put people on edge, despite how thoughtful and perceptive he truly was.

"Ah, Ayasegawa. What do you want?"

"Captain, I've come to request a transfer," Yumichika said, keeping his eyes lowered because saying it to his Captain was as awful and difficult as saying it to Ikkaku himself. "I'd like you to approve of me going to the Kido Corps."

Zaraki said nothing, just reached for his lit pipe and took a contemplative pull on it, settling back in his chair in a plaintive groan of stressed wood.

"He's tough," the man said, plucking his pipe out of his mouth to sigh a cloud of smoke out into the deepening day. "He'll live."

"Yes, he will, Captain." Yumichika had no idea what to say or do, and he wasn't entirely sure just how much his Captain had witnessed out there. Whatever the case may be, he couldn't stay. Having witnessed Ikkaku's death once already with such devastating results made bearing it again an impossibility. Everything else was just long history and regret.

"You know why I like to fight so much?"

The question surprised him into saying, "No, Captain. Why?"

"I met a woman once, when I was a kid," the man said, a strange, distant longing in his deep, harsh voice, his lids dropping to hood his eyes. He'd taken his patch off at some point and idly twined the straps in his free fingers, as if from habit. "She was the most powerful person I've ever fought. Amazingly powerful. I've never found anyone like her again, but I dream that I will some day. So I keep fighting, hoping that she'll get sick of hearing about me and finally come settle things."

He laughed darkly, relishing the idea of it, confounding Yumichika in the process.

"I hope for that for you, Captain," Yumichika finally said, at a loss.

"That woman, you know what kind of sword she has, Ayasegawa?"

"N...no, Captain," he admitted, not having the first clue who this mysterious woman was in the first place. He hazarded to guess, "A melee type, like everyone in Squad Eleven. That's the only type worth anything, isn't it?"

Captain Zaraki laughed again and took another deep pull on his pipe before saying in his low, raspy voice, "Nah, not that. The strongest sword I've ever crossed is a kido blade."

Yumichika stared at him, stunned, knowing his secret was no longer just that, but shocked that his Captain didn't seem to mind.

"Strong is strong, eh?" Captain Zaraki said, and blew out his smoke, grinning his sharp, wide grin. "Strong doesn't have a _type_. Get some sleep, Ayasegawa. You look like hell."

"C...Captain? My transfer - "

"You want to go to them Kido people, you go," Captain Zaraki said, his shrewd eyes sharply watching him. "Men don't really ever _leave_ this Squad, Ayasegawa. Wherever you go, you'll always be part of the Eleventh. Now get out of here."

"Th...thank you, Captain," Yumichika said, bowing deeply.

Yumichika left the room as quietly as he'd come in, wondering why the idea of leaving hurt as badly as it did. He'd always thought that his ties to this place were solely through Ikkaku; he hadn't counted on forming bonds of his own to people he'd come to cherish.

But it was all necessary in order to do this one thing for himself, in order to avoid the inevitable future. He would _not_ watch Madarame Ikkaku die again. He would go to the Kido Corps, and live out the rest of his days making his old instructor proud. Ikkaku would wonder about him for awhile, but he had enough distractions to keep him from pursuing it, especially if Matsumoto worked her infallible magic.

He went to their room and closed the screens, shutting out the irritating light and also any watchful eyes as he gathered his belongings. The last thing Yumichika wanted was the answer questions or cause a scene. He would go quietly and without anyone's notice, and that would be that.

The sum of his life lay in his pale, white hands - an aged, much-worn scroll casing with its gold long since flaked off to reveal the pale wood beneath, a brittle book of kido spells with its cracked binding and loose spine, and the sliver of a file which was the latest in a long line, all treasured thanks to the first. _That_ was what he had to show for his long, long life - everything else, like himself, had simply aged until nothing was left.

Yumichika deposited those things inside of his uniform, rolled his bedding up, and packed away his other uniforms, making a neat bundle that fit easily on his slim back.

And that was it. After all of this time, after all of the pain and heartache, all of the laughter and fury and delight of being with such a man, _this_ was how easy and quick it was to extract himself from Madarame Ikkaku's life and vanish like so much smoke.

"I'll miss you," he breathed, gazing at Ikkaku's bedding and the scattering of small personal things he kept on a lacquered box next to his bed. The ache in his heart urged him to leave a note, some clue that Ikkaku could follow, and maybe, _maybe he'd come, and...and..._

And the same nonsense. And the same misplaced hope and childish dreams of romance.

"_Stupid Yumichika_," he hissed at himself, wishing the Azure Peacock would chime in and goad him a little, but his Soul Cutter was somberly silent. "How many times does your hand have to be smacked before you learn not to reach?"

He resolutely turned away, opened the door, and left the Squad Eleven grounds for the last time.

It was only by sheer stubborn resolution that he did not look back.

* * *

"Ayasegawa, sir, it seems that we still haven't received your transfer paperwork."

Yumichika sighed, not surprised, and angled a dark glare at Tamotsu whenever he laughed.

"This isn't funny, Tamotsu," he said to him, and then, to the anxious page awaiting his reply, he said, "Squad Eleven is notoriously terrible at paperwork. Send it again or else send someone to speak to the Captain in person. His verbal agreement should suffice."

The page hurried off, presumably to search out the Captain, and good luck to him, poor kid.

"Yes, but we need the official stamp and signature to make it all complete," Tamotsu reminded him, grinning. He'd been shocked and dismayed to see Yumichika, thinking that Ikkaku must surely be dead for him to show up at the Kido Corps. He'd been more than willing to speak to his superiors, however, and within an hour of his arrival Yumichika was given a place among them.

It was a pleasant, lovely place tucked away in a corner of the Court of Pure Souls where no one really ventured. Yumichika had just found out that it was an illusion created by kido in order to keep others from disrupting their work. A little effort on everyone's part - hardly more than a tickle at the back of their mind - and everyone in Soul Society unconsciously gave that part of the Court wide berth. Easy.

"Yumichika...are you settling in?" Tamotsu asked. He'd grown up, too, since Yumichika had last seen him. He was no longer a scholarly youth with his nose stuck in a book and his head in the clouds. Time had worked its magic on Tamotsu as well and left him hardened, wise, and more thoughtful, though still full of smiles.

"Yes, of course," Yumichika softly answered him, pressing his hand to his stomach, which ached almost constantly. Perhaps it was homesickness. He thought it might be, because every time he thought of Ikkaku - which was with every breath - he felt the same tight, awful pain that refused to lessen. "Thank you, Tamotsu, for helping me."

"As if I wouldn't help you," the man laughed, averting his gaze to his notes. He'd asked Yumichika to join him on a project of crafting new kido by combining forms. It was interesting enough to distract him, as it was intended. "We're friends, Yumichika. You'll get used to this place. You'll learn to move on."

_Move on_. No, he would never do _that_, but one day in the distant future he might learn how to live again without Ikkaku, and be able to find peace. After all, it had only been two weeks since he'd walked away from everything he knew and loved. Time would take this hurt, too, he knew, like it took all things in the end.

"Are you ever going to talk about it?" Tamotsu asked, wisely not looking at him, asking it almost indifferently as he perused his notes.

"Talk about what?" Yumichika asked, stalling.

"About your Soul Cutter, about the squad you joined," Tamotsu said, cutting his eyes Yumichika's way. "About Madarame?"

"There's nothing to talk about," Yumichika informed him, though his vivid blush said otherwise. "You were right, Tamotsu - he's already dead and he's glad of it. There's nothing I can do by staying by his side. There is nothing he's ever needed from me that he would miss with my loss. I've come to my senses at long last. Happy?"

"Not in the least," Tamotsu said, shaking his head, and changed the subject with, "I see that your marks are gone."

"Yes," Yumichika said, touching his throat, which was bare now. There was no need to wear the orange monstrosity, though he kept it and touched it often, thinking of Matsumoto. He missed that insufferable woman, and regretted that he wasn't able to be close to her. After all, the man she loved had died in her arms just as his had. If there were ever two people in Soul Society who shared a secret heart, it was he and Matsumoto Rangiku. "We finally made peace, my Soul Cutter and I."

Still, the Azure Peacock was silent. They'd spoken only once since he'd brought Ikkaku back, together there in that Garden. The Azure Peacock had wordlessly accepted Yumichika's heartfelt thanks for saving all of them and had then, strangely, said, '_I didn't think you would _truly _leave him_...'

Those words still bothered him, because of all the advice that the Azure Peacock had given, "leave Ikkaku" had been the most offered. Yet now he sulked and watched silently, as if waiting for Yumichika to come to his senses.

"Ah, Yumichika, you're difficult to pry secrets out of," Tamotsu sighed, giving him up to his own thoughts.

Yumichika buried himself in his work for awhile, trying to find methods to create a strong, combined kido with an abbreviated incantation. It was distracting enough to make the time pass swiftly, and engrossing enough that he almost didn't notice at first whenever there was a subtle disturbance at the entrance to the Kido Corps.

"...know what he's shouting..."

"...someone has gone to get the Commander..."

"Ayasegawa, sir? I think someone is here for you!"

The little page from before nearly fell over himself trying to get to Yumichika, his brown eyes wild.

"Are you okay?" Tamotsu asked, alarmed. "What is it?"

"Er, I'm sorry, sir!" the youth said, embarrassed. "He said he'd hurt me if I didn't bring him! _I really think he meant it_!"

"Oh no," Yumichika breathed, and shot for the courtyard, his heart pounding. Sure enough, the moment he passed the doorway he heard a familiar, raspy voice raised in outrage, shouting, "_Yumichika! Where the hell are you, eh? Yumichika_!"

"Tamotsu, please tell the Commander I'll deal with this," Yumichika lowly said to the man who turned up at his side. "I apologize for the disturbance."

"I'll tell him," Tamotsu said, bewildered. "Just...be careful, Yumichika. He looks pretty unhappy."

"He's fine," Yumichika said, sounding far more calm than he felt. Just seeing Ikkaku's scowling, angry face made his heart jump up in his throat and his fingers itch to touch him. How could one heart feel so full? Like it might burst at any second, simply from just _seeing_ someone? "Please, excuse me."

"_Yumichika! Where _are_ you_?!"

"Ikkaku," Yumichika called, drifting to a stop just behind him so that the man turned, surprised.

"Ah, Yumichika, there you are," he said, grinning and lifting one hand to rub the back of his head. He was thinner than he should be, and paler than normal, but otherwise looked just as he always had. Those grey eyes crinkled with the force of his familiar, beloved grin, and Yumichika swallowed hard to keep his feelings at bay. "I've been looking for you."

"Why?" Yumichika asked, hating that his voice trembled with even one word.

"Why?" Ikkaku echoed, his eyes popping open and then narrowing. "_Why_? What do you _mean_, why?! _Eh_?! I'm here to take you home!"

"I _am _home now," Yumichika informed him, drawing on every reserve of haughty snobbery he could manage, because he wavered dangerously and he could feel it. "Please, forget about me, Ikkaku."

"_WHAT_?!" Ikkaku roared, his fists clenching at his sides, his shoulders tightening. "I look all this time for you and you want to _stay_? _EH_? How many heads did I have to pound to find you here, Yumichika, huh? And you want to stay! HAH! You damned brat!"

"Ikkaku, please," Yumichika said, lifting a staying hand, trying his best to remain calm when all he really wanted to do was exactly what Ikkaku told him to do. "You shouldn't be here! And why on earth were you beating people up to find me?! Honestly, of all the dramatic things!"

"What _else_ was I supposed to do, damn it!" Ikkaku flared, his voice echoing in the courtyard, making some of the gathered Kido Corps flinch. "I wake up to find you've vanished into thin air with me cut sternum to cock about to lose the only thing in my life that's ever meant anything to me!"

"That's nonsense, Ikkaku," Yumichika told him, bewildered because he seemed well enough, after all. "You'll clearly be able to fight again - "

"Not _that_, stupid! I mean _you_!" Ikkaku snarled, stunning him.

"Ikkaku!" Yumichika realized with alarm that Ikkaku was closing the distance between them. He took a step back, eyes wide, but the bald Death God forcefully snatched him close right there in front of the curious, gathered Kido Corps' lower echelon. For one startling, confused second, Yumichika simply couldn't think. Ikkaku's heat enveloped him, those strong hands were on him, one clenched on his waist and the other curled beneath his chin to hold him still.

And his mouth...

Yumichika gasped, eyes huge, his startled protest stifled by Ikkaku's mouth as it covered his own, soft for all the hardness of his words, gentle for all the roughness of his actions. He couldn't help but bend, as he always had, but always with this bending in his heart. He swayed against Ikkaku and reached up to grasp the cloth of his uniform over his chest, holding him near, keeping him close. He followed Ikkaku's lead, returning the kiss with everything left of his much-abused heart until they both were breathless and surprised. Those sharp teeth nipped him once, drawing a bead of blood from his plump lower lip, leaving a mark that everyone could see. Just as quickly, Ikkaku's hot tongue lapped the wound and urged his lips to part again, lighting a fire in Yumichika's blood that he had long-since imagined died out.

"Stupid Yumichika," Ikkaku whispered, breaking the kiss. The hand beneath his chin slid to cup his cheek and he pressed his forehead to Yumichika's, his grey eyes opening to slits to stare into Yumichika's own. "Matsumoto told me. Yumichika...why didn't _you_ tell me? Eh?"

Yumichika shook his head, unable to answer, unable to _think_, not with Ikkaku so incredibly _close_. In a soft whisper, he said, "What would it have accomplished, Ikkaku? Since we were boys together, your only desire has been to fight, and now to die in service to Zaraki. Would I try to take that from you? Would I ever ask you to give up something for me?"

"You should have," Ikkaku said, his voice rough and low. "You've given up plenty for _me_."

Yumichika was breathless with faint hope, but he didn't dare consider it.

"You could have come in here a seated officer," Ikkaku said, lifting his head to glare at Yumichika from the bottoms of his eyes. "You could have returned to your family in full honor. You could have kept your long hair and your strange habit of dressing and never had to work a day for anything. Do you think I never realize what you've sacrificed? But all of these years, I've never known _why_."

His strong hand clenched on Yumichika's waist, the fine fingers of his other hand spreading to fully cup Yumichika's soft cheek.

"You've always kept secrets, Yumichika - my own as well as yours. It's never been fair of me to ask it of you, but I never thought about it because I never _had_ to ask. I just assumed that what I wanted, you would too, because you always have. I've just never known the reason for it." Those grey eyes watched Yumichika, gauging his reaction. "You hide your Soul Cutter's power. You hide the secret of my _bankai_. You hide your noble blood from the others. You hide the fact that you're too good for Squad Zaraki. It took a ridiculous woman like Matsumoto pointing it out to make me realize that I should ask _why_."

He tipped his head down again, meeting Yumichika's gaze straight on. "I should have asked a long time ago. Forgive me, Yumichika."

Yumichika just stared at him, speechless.

"I don't want you to hide anything from me anymore, understand?" Ikkaku said, shaking him gently. "I don't want you to have secrets from me, Yumichika. I'll help you keep them from anyone else you want, but don't keep them from me. I'm sorry that I ever made you think you had to."

Yumichika said nothing, his mind still spinning confused circles over what he was hearing.

"I don't want you to go away from me, stupid. I don't want you where I can't take care of you," Ikkaku told him. "It's time to go. Come on."

"No."

"Come _on_, I said!" Ikkaku said, growling fiercely and grabbing his wrist, giving him a tug in the direction of the gates.

"No, I won't let you do this," Yumichika said, shaking his head so that his feathers fluttered and his hair flew. He stopped in his tracks and pulled against Ikkaku's strength, crying, "_I won't let you_! I _know_ you, Madarame Ikkaku! You'll give up everything you love for something you don't just to spare me! Why do you think I've never asked you for anything?! _I don't want you to give up anything for me_!"

"_Shut up_, I said!" Ikkaku shouted, overriding him. "If I'd known a long time ago how you felt, you brat, _I'd never have wanted those things to begin with_!"

Yumichika drew up sharply, shocked.

"_Stupid_," Ikkaku said, angling his head away, a sure sign that he was unsure of himself, letting go of Yumichika's wrist to cross his arms over his chest. "You hide _too_ well, Yumichika. What was I supposed to think, when you've never been more than my friend? How many times did I offer and all you did was poke that nose of yours into the air? _Eh_?"

"You _never_!" Yumichika protested, shocked, absently cradling his wrist where the livid marks of Ikkaku's fingers burned bright on his pale skin. "_Ikkaku_! What on earth are you saying? _When_?!"

"Like that night at your brothers? _Eh_?" Ikkaku said, pinning him with one shrewd, grey eye. "I asked you, didn't I? _Unless you've changed your mind_, I said! And then again, the next day - _come in or go out_, I said! And each time you made a face and turned away! You hold yourself away from everyone, Yumichika - who am I to think you'd want _me_? Any time I mentioned it, any time I tried to get you to open up, you'd tell me not to talk about such ugly things and you'd turn your back on me. What was I supposed to _think_, I said, when you tell me you don't want to be close to _anyone_ like _that_?!"

Yumichika just stared at him, his violet eyes wide and unblinking, wracking his memories for those instances when, yes, Ikkaku _had_ actually offered, albeit in his own way - alone the first time, and then together with a woman the next, giving Yumichika the room to decide if he wanted to or not. Countless other times, too, over their years together, cautious overtures couched in conversation and teasing...

And each time Yumichika, seeing something completely different, had simply walked away.

"Stupid Ikkaku," he breathed, wondering if they would always be doomed to have completely different experiences of precisely the same thing, over and over throughout their lives together. "All I could see was you with everyone but me...of all the people in the world, it's always only been you."

"Stupid _Yumichika_!" Ikkaku flared, tipping his head up to scowl at him, his voice rising with the force of his feelings. "Do you think after everything you went through that I'd ever try to push something on you that you didn't want?"

He sighed, his tense shoulders loosening and his tone softening.

"When Renji said everyone thought we were together, you wrinkled your nose and complained about it; it bothered you so much that you lost your smile for months. After that...I thought I knew how you felt, so I kept my distance," Ikkaku roughly said, a light pink stain on his cheeks. "But you've been at my side for longer than either one of us cares to remember, Yumichika, so how could I _not _feel something for you? I don't know _what_ it is, but no one has ever caused the same feeling in me that you always have - so whatever it is, it's only for you, Yumichika."

Yumichika pressed his hand to his heart, sure that the whole world must surely hear it thundering. All of these years spent in lonely, one-sided love, all of this time trying so hard to be _seen_, to be _needed_, and here Ikkaku was, blushing his way through a confession of his own.

"Now, can we go?" Ikkaku asked, noting, "Those weird people are staring at us."

"It's because you barged in here like a madman, you bald idiot," Yumichika breathed, trying to bring his mind into some semblance of order. But all that mattered was the pounding of his heart, beating out the pattern of Ikkaku's name. "I...I can't leave, Ikkaku. Nothing has _changed_! I left because I can't do it."

"Eh? Do what?" Ikkaku asked, cocking his head, bewildered.

"_I can't watch you die_!" Yumichika breathlessly told him.

"_Again_, you mean?" Ikkaku purred, arching one elegant black brow. "Ah, Yumichika, what kind of bastard would throw away _that_ gift, eh? You nearly died to save me, didn't you? You honestly believe I think so little of you that I'd go and try to get myself killed after _that_? _Heh_! Am I a man?! Would I leave you all alone after you tell me you love me?"

Yumichika stared at him, trembling, and managed to stammer, "I've never said that..."

"Just with those eyes of yours, you damned brat!" Ikkaku said, then grinned at him, saying, "Stupid, come on, let's go home."

"But - "

"We'll figure it out as we go, Yumichika, damn it!" Ikkaku informed him. "Don't we always? Now, come on."

"Ayasegawa, sir..."

Yumichika started whenever the young page turned up at his elbow, holding a hastily compiled bundle of his belongings.

"Senior Tamotsu said to bring your things," he said, keeping a terrified eye on Ikkaku, who merely looked suspicious and grouchy. "He says to take care of yourself."

"Thanks," Ikkaku said, snagging the bundle from him. "Tell that guy I'll take care of Yumichika, just like always. Now, let's go."

Stunned by the rapid change of events, Yumichika just stood there, aware of the people watching them, worried by the triumphant thrill in his heart. Ikkaku was fond of him. Ikkaku would _live_, and not go courting death!

"Hey, Yumichika! Come on!" Ikkaku called back, already through the gates with Yumichika's belongings slung over his shoulder.

"Ikkaku! Wait for me!" He dashed after him, almost frightened to think that it might be okay now. He'd never thought that he'd ever have Ikkaku in truth, and the reality of it was more than intimidating.

"Your men have been searching everywhere," Ikkaku said, heading steadily back towards their Squad. "I told them you were doing something for me and that you'd be back. Heh, good thing that kid kept coming around."

"So that's how you found me," Yumichika breathed, feeling the Azure Peacock stir with interest.

"The Captain told me where you were," Ikkaku said, surprising him. "But I couldn't find you, and Matsumoto wouldn't help me. That damned woman! Every time she sees me, she hits me and tells me I'm a bastard. _Ha_! Like I hurt you on purpose!"

Yumichika hastily looked away whenever Ikkaku looked over at him, hoping the pink in his cheeks didn't show.

"I've never meant to, you know that, right?" the man asked, his eyes serious and his gaze intense. "Whenever I've hurt you, I've never done it on purpose."

"I know," Yumichika said. It didn't mean that those times had hurt any less, and both of them knew it, but he was still warmed by Ikkaku's soft claim. The weight of Ikkaku's gaze made him smile in mingled pleasure and mild embarrassment. His beauty deserved homage, he knew, but Ikkaku was by no means a man to be snared by a beautiful face.

"Ikkaku...are you sure I should come back?" Yumichika softly asked, daring to look back at him. "My Soul Cutter...you saw what it does. You saw what it _is_."

Ikkaku glared at him, saying, "Stupid Yumichika! I've _always known_!"

Yumichika stared at him, taken aback. "You've known? For how long?!"

"Did you think I'd let you go out traipsing around in the middle of the night _alone_?" Ikkaku asked, his volume rising to match the force of his feelings. "After I figured out you weren't meeting a lover, I followed you, stupid! I've known for years how powerful that sword of yours is! I was just waiting for _you_ to tell me, Yumichika. It took a long time for me to realize you never would, you damned brat!"

"But, Ikkaku!" Yumichika breathlessly said, confused but elated all the same. "How _could _I tell you? It's a Kido sword, and you hate Kido! I've never told anyone about it! The only ones who know are Captain Hitsugaya and Matsumoto. Ah, and Lieutenant Hisagi - "

"_What_?!" Ikkaku shouted, outraged. "You told _Hisagi_ but you wouldn't tell _me_?! _Damn it, Yumichika_! The same Hisagi who was carrying you like you were some kind of princess back at the pillars?!"

"He did?" Yumichika asked blankly, surprised. "_Ikkaku_, I'd been knocked out trying to get to _you_! It wasn't like I asked him to! And I didn't _tell him_, you bald idiot! I fought him, remember? Everything was so chaotic, I thought I'd try the Azure Peacock's power on a true foe - "

"I don't even know it's true _name_? HAH!" Ikkaku fumed, offended. "Keeping so many secrets from me whenever I tell you everything I know! Damned brat!"

Yumichika suppressed a smile, recognizing the jealousy behind Ikkaku's building temper. He knew he didn't have to say anything more about it, because Ikkaku would be mad, as always, and then let it go as if it had never been, as always.

"Heh, it's a good thing I know you love me _best_, Yumichika," the man finally said, stubbornly playing the wounded party. "After all, there isn't any other man you'd die for trying to bring him back to life, is there?"

"No, Ikkaku," Yumichika softly said, smiling at him. "There isn't any other man I'd die for, just you."

Those grey eyes slid to his, warm and sparkling, uncertain but relying on Yumichika to see through everything to the heart of it all.

"So, that's it, then?" Yumichika asked, holding his gaze despite his blushes. "I won't have to watch you die? You and the Captain don't mind about my Soul Cutter? And it doesn't bother you that I love you?"

"Well, I wouldn't say you won't have to watch me die," Ikkaku corrected, reminding him, "We're Death Gods, Yumichika - what we do can always lead to death, especially in our Squad. But I won't dive right in hoping, I promise. As for the Captain, I could have told you that he doesn't mind them, if you'd asked. It's not _his _rule, Yumichika, it's just a tradition in Squad Eleven. Once they see what your Soul Cutter is capable of, they'll be glad its on their side."

"I don't think I want them to know," Yumichika quietly cut in, concerned that he might lose their respect. "It will be our secret. You really don't mind that I love you, Ikkaku?"

"Stupid," Ikkaku called him. "I mind that you love me if you _don't tell me about it_! Look at how much time we've wasted to get here, eh? Proud brat prince."

"Look who's talking," Yumichika breathed, but was secretly pleased. He feared the changes that would come with this revelation, but he knew that it was for the best. They would figure it out together, just as they'd always done everything.

It was dark when they reached Squad Eleven's compound, but that didn't keep everyone present from turning out to a man, crowding close to call their welcomes to Yumichika, smiles on their faces.

"See? I told you he'd be back! _He'll be back_, I said!" Ikkaku crowed, one arm slung over Yumichika's shoulders, his other hand holding the small bundle of possessions that no one seemed to notice. "Now _give him some space_, you idiots, eh?! Acting like it's been a hundred years or something, _hah_!"

"We're so glad to see you, Fifth Seat Ayasegawa!"

"We've been sweeping the barracks while you were gone, Fifth Seat!"

"The bath house has never been so clean, Ayasegawa, sir!"

"Good heavens, is _that_ the reputation I've garnered?" Yumichika whispered, blushing as they shouted, walking only because of Ikkaku's hold on him. "I'm _the cleaning person_?!"

Ikkaku laughed his deep, raspy laugh and said, "Nah, Yumichika, stupid! They know how much you like for things to be clean, so they went all out, hoping you'd be happy when you came back."

"Fools," Yumichika said, quietly pleased with them. "It's only their duty, thank you very much!"

"Go on," Ikkaku shouted, scattering most of them from the sheer volume of his voice. "Get lost! He's just shocked by how clean it all is, eh?"

"Are you truly back, Fifth Seat, sir?" Hiroto - his second - called, bringing an instant hush.

"What a question!" Yumichika tartly said, glaring at him, the harshness of his retort lessened by the small smile playing over his lips. "I would hardly be a Lucky Charm if I was gone, now would I?"

Their relief pained him, but he understood it. All of the men in his unit were powerful enough to claim Seats for themselves, but none of them had ever sought to do so. It humbled him to realize how dedicated they were to him, and stiffened his resolve to be a leader they could be proud of.

"Go back to your duties," Yumichika said, aiming it at everyone still milling around them. "I'm dirty and tired and in no mood for nonsense."

Though it wasn't unusual for Ikkaku to walk around with an arm over his shoulders - there were reasons, after all, why people assumed they were lovers, not just because they shared a room - _now_ it felt conspicuous and alarming. In fact, as Ikkaku walked him along the familiar trail to their room, Yumichika blushingly recalled that they'd kissed.

They'd _kissed_!

"Eh?" Ikkaku asked, jostling him slightly. "What was that?"

"What?" Yumichika asked, his heart picking up its pace.

"You made a noise," Ikkaku said, shoving open the door to their room and plopping Yumichika's bundle on his bed. "Like a squeak."

"I didn't squeak!" Yumichika informed him, brushing past to turn on the lights and open the bundle of his belongings, all for the sake of avoiding Ikkaku's gaze.

"Your face is pink," Ikkaku told him, then sounded very pleased with himself for figuring it out when he added, "You didn't think they'd be so glad to see you, _did you_?"

"They _shouldn't_ be," Yumichika said, quickly out of things to do. The scroll case went back in its place next to his bed, his file went with his bath-clothes, and the book returned to the small shelf that Ikkaku had made for him once upon a time. "I've lied to them."

"Nah, you haven't," Ikkaku assured him. "Not really. That other release of yours is as real as the _true_ one, and damned effective, too. Come on, let's go get cleaned up."

If Ikkaku had thought his face was pink before, then he hadn't seen _anything_ yet. Yumichika's eyes flew wide open and he said in a nervous rush, "_No thank you, I'm tired_!"

"_Heh_? Yumichika?! What's this all the sudden? What's _this_, I said!" Ikkaku hollered, glaring at Yumichika with his hands curled over his lean hips and a scowl of deepening suspicion on his handsome face.

On that mouth Yumichika had _kissed_!

"There, you did it again!" Ikkaku accused him, pointing a finger his direction. "_No more arguing_! Get changed, we're going. You're out of your head, I think, trying to go to bed without a bath! HAH! Like you'd ever do _that_!"

He swung away and began to undress with the same rapid efficiency he always did, leaving Yumichika staring at him in growing dismay, clutching his own clothing like someone threatened to steal it.

'_But it's okay, isn't it_?' he wondered, shedding his clothes with his back to Ikkaku because changing of his own volition was far better than being forcefully divested of his clothing, which was liable to happen if he kept thwarting Ikkaku. '_He kissed me, so...so this isn't just something he's accepted, right? He _kissed_ me, so he must...want me that way...right_?"

He cut his violet eyes to one side to sneak a look at Ikkaku, who was tying his bathing clothes with just enough attention to keep him decent.

"Were you happy to see that guy again? What's his name?"

"Tamotsu," Yumichika answered, hastily finishing up when Ikkaku's grey eyes sought him out. "Yes, it was nice to see him again."

"Is he still puny?"

"_Ikkaku_! He was never _puny_," Yumichika scolded, snatching up his file and turning it restlessly in his hands to distract himself. "He's a nice man. He's a _good_ man. And he was kind to me when I needed some kindness."

Those thoughtful grey eyes flicked over him with new intensity, as if seeing things they'd always missed, things that had been hidden too well behind mutual misunderstanding and deliberate misleading.

"Tamotsu," Ikkaku said, pondering. "Come on, Yumichika."

The Squad as a whole had heard Yumichika say the words "dirty" and "tired" - as a result, there wasn't a soul anywhere along the terrace or anywhere between their room and the bathhouse.

They were completely and utterly alone.

"Do you have hiccups or something?" Ikkaku asked whenever he squeaked again, searching his pinkened face.

Yumichika nodded vigorously, wondering why even the thought of being alone with Ikkaku was so terrifyingly thrilling. Only long decades of practice kept him from dissolving into blushes as they washed up. It felt so strange to soap Ikkaku's ropey back and think of that kiss, so strange to let those powerful hands work soap down his own slender spine and think of that kiss...

"You're quiet," Ikkaku informed him, sloshing another bucket of water over Yumichika's shoulders. He put the bucket down and frowned a little, asking, "Are you upset, Yumichika?"

"No, I'm not upset," Yumichika answered, pressing his hand to his chest where his heart raced and trembled. "I'm...I'm so glad you lived, Ikkaku and...and...I'm glad it's finally going to be okay."

"Okay? Why _wouldn't_ it be okay, eh?" Ikkaku asked, grinning. "Get your file, Yumichika, will you? Those nails of yours are sorry."

It was just like every other time they'd bathed together, easy and comfortable. Ikkaku took his time getting Yumichika's nails in order, loudly complaining that Yumichika should be more careful of them.

And yet...and yet not even once, not even a tiny indication...

'_This isn't the place for that sort of thing_,' Yumichika reminded himself, trying to reason his way out of worry. '_Ikkaku kissed me. He said he doesn't mind that I love him. Everything is going to be okay, I know it. We'll be together and I'll be as important to him as he is to me..._'

But they finished bathing, and changed for bed, and Yumichika's doubt grew to cast a shadow over his newfound hope.

Because Ikkaku simply tied his bedclothes with his usual negligence and flopped down on his bed, saying, "Get the lights when you're done, Yumichika, will you?"

'_He doesn't want me_,' Yumichika realized, crushed. He numbly got the lights and went to his own bed, curling up with his back to Ikkaku, his wide eyes staring into the darkness. '_It's like I feared it would be - he's accepted it, but it doesn't change anything. The kiss must've just been to tell me he knew, but when it comes down to it, he doesn't want me that way. It's enough. It's enough, though, that he'll let me love him..._'

"Don't move."

Yumichika jumped whenever Ikkaku spoke so close to him, clutching his bedding in startlement. He was rallying to question him, but it got lost in a loud yelp of shock whenever he was hauled - bedding and all - clear across the small room to Ikkaku's bed with such force that he nearly rolled right onto the floor.

"_Ikkaku_! What on earth are - "

"What were you doing all the way over there, Yumichika? _Stupid_! I go to all that trouble to bring you home next to me where you belong and you go sleep _away _from me?! _HAH_! You're so selfish, Yumichika!"

A calloused hand snagged him by the shoulder and rolled him onto his back so that he gazed up into sparkling grey eyes. Ikkaku settled back onto his own bedding and gave Yumichika's another tug, closing the small gap.

"There, you damned brat," he complained, laying down and stretching out with a sigh, leaving Yumichika in a tumbled state of disarray next to him. "Sleeping so far from me! Heh!"

Yumichika lay there with his heart pounding, his chest rising and falling quickly, his cheeks aflame.

Ikkaku turned onto his side and reached across him, pulling Yumichika snugly into the curve of his body, urging him to turn. It was how they'd slept as children, as youths in the House of Open Roses, his body nestled into Ikkaku's, the safest place he'd ever been.

Ikkaku's breath stirred his hair and one large, calloused hand loosely cupped his flat belly, holding him close. Yumichika was acutely aware that his beloved backside was snugly pressed into the cup of Ikkaku's groin, which made his heart race even faster. The heat of the hand on his belly was unbearable, inspiring a keen ache for more.

'_Yumichika, you've spent so many decades telling him "no" when you've meant "yes" that you can hardly fault the man _now,' Ruri'iro Kujaku whispered, amusement tinging his words.

'_Well _now_ you decide to talk! Go away, you interfering peacock! Can't a man have some privacy_?'

Though he doubted the Azure Peacock would miss _this_ for the world, his Soul Cutter politely retreated with a soft laugh, leaving only the wisdom of his words.

Yumichika shifted onto his belly, then rolled completely over under the man's heavy arm, hoping that Ikkaku hadn't fallen asleep in the meantime. Ikkaku could nap anywhere, anytime, under any circumstances, he knew.

Hesitantly, Yumichika wriggled closer, ignoring the thunder of his own heart in his ears as he lay one slender, delicate hand on Ikkaku's cheek.

Those grey eyes fluttered open, catching the dim moonlight in a gleam of silver.

Yumichika didn't have time to wonder what he should do next - Ikkaku's arm tightened on his waist and he leaned into Yumichika, capturing his mouth in a rough, urgent kiss. The sharpness of his teeth drew blood, but it was right somehow that Ikkaku would stake his claim in crimson, and the sudden pain made Yumichika moan softly. Ikkaku's hand tightened on him reflexively, responding to that sound. His mouth was hot and skilled, his tongue lapping the blood away and piercing the seal of Yumichika's lips to find his own. It was a sensation that brought fire to his blood, sent a thrill of pleasure straight to his groin, and he pressed against Ikkaku helplessly, his fingers clenching on the man's shoulder. The hard curves and dips of muscle against him made him tremble, awed that after all of this frustrated longing he would finally be able call Ikkaku his own.

Yumichika shivered, tipping his head to offer more. The pure, heady pleasure of kissing him spiked when he felt Ikkaku's hand slide from his waist down his thigh to slip beneath the fold of his nightclothes. The excruciating sensation of those calloused, rough fingertips gently tracing a trail up his bare skin made him gasp, arching into Ikkaku's warm body.

Every trembling response only seemed to stoke Ikkaku's desire. He deepened their kiss with force, his hand clenching on one pert, round cheek of Yumichika's backside, forcing him closer.

"Ikkaku," Yumichika breathed, tasting salty copper, moaning when another tiny rivulet was lapped away. More and more and more - he wanted everything, all of it, all that he'd been denied and had denied himself in all of the long, lonely years of his life. His hand moved of its own accord, sliding down Ikkaku's throat and chest, seeking the loosened sash on his clothing.

"Yumichika," Ikkaku said, his voice a low, sultry purr. "You sure you haven't done this?"

"No, of course not!" Yumichika gasped, offended into pausing. "As if I would let anyone else touch me! Ew! Even the idea of it makes me want to bathe!"

Ikkaku laughed suddenly, amused.

"What's so funny?" Yumichika panted, bewildered.

"I'm glad, that's all," Ikkaku told him, grinning his wide, wild grin. "If anyone else had touched you, I'd have to kill them."

"That's a bit drastic, don't you think?" Yumichika asked, trying to distract himself from the feel of Ikkaku's insistent body against his.

"No, only practical," Ikkaku said, a twinkle in his grey eyes. "Like you need lovesick idiots hanging around you complicating things. It would only piss me off to see them. Killing them would be best. _I'm_ the only idiot you need to worry about."

Yumichika smirked softly, wondering if Ikkaku realized what he'd just said.

Their eyes met, violet and grey, peacock and dragon. Yumichika just gazed at him, wishing he knew everything, wishing he could please Ikkaku so much that the man would never seek another bed ever again.

Ikkaku cupped his face suddenly, pressing his forehead to Yumichika's, breathing in a raspy purr, "Those eyes of yours, Yumichika. When you look at me I know I can do anything, however impossible it might seem."

"Really?" Yumichika asked, uttering a soft, nervous laugh of pleasure. "You like them?"

"They've been saying for years what your mouth never would, you damned brat," Ikkaku said, retreating, embarrassed for some reason that Yumichika couldn't fathom, except that maybe the admission made him feel uncertain. "I was just too stupid to read you right."

"Well, you _are_ rather an idiot," Yumichika whispered, punctuating it with a teasing bite on his jaw.

Ikkaku just laughed and reached for his sash, saying, "You're a _brat_! Now get this off! This damned, knot, I _swear_!"

"If you tie them correctly the first time," Yumichika scolded, easily undoing the knot on Ikkaku's nightclothes. "Then..."

He trailed off, the enormity of what he was about to do finally overcoming him when he saw Ikkaku's bare, hard body. He knew that Ikkaku didn't sleep in his _fundoshi_, but intellectual knowledge of that still hadn't prepared him to find Ikkaku naked beneath. Even in the gloom of their darkened room he could see that Ikkaku had every reason to be proud of himself in that respect.

"I should have known," Ikkaku said, his voice a husky whisper, shifting slightly so that the edge of his nightclothes fell back over his hip.

"Known?" Yumichika breathlessly echoed, looking anywhere but at _Ikkaku_.

"It's because you're shy," the man said, his lips curving into a smile as he pulled Yumichika closer. "I should have known you'd never risk it with anyone but me - I'm the only one you trust enough for anything."

"Arrogant," Yumichika called him, but it was true. Ikkaku would always be the only one. He'd only _ever_ been the only one.

"I _am_ an idiot," Ikkaku sighed, kissing him again. "I should have just taken you to bed years ago, then you would've been able to tell me a lot sooner and we'd have settled all of this between us."

"Settled?" Yumichika echoed, not liking the sound of that. "Is it a burden, then?"

"No," Ikkaku said, grinning again. "It's a good thing. We've always been a part of each other, now it's just...certain."

"Ikkaku?" Yumichika softly asked, plagued by his own insecurity. Just because Ikkaku's..._body_ responded to his nearness didn't necessarily mean anything. Did it? "Do you truly want me this way? I know your..._tastes_. However you look at it, I'm still not a girl."

"Eh? Yumichika, what's that got to do with anything? You think I feel this way for you because of what's under your clothes? Don't be stupid! I want you because I want you - however you come. Boy or girl, as long as you're Yumichika and you don't mind it, I'll be trying to get your clothes off," Ikkaku said, shrugging it off. "You know how it is with me - whatever willing body is closest, yeah?"

"Even if they're_ men_?!" Yumichika asked, shocked out of his worry.

Sure enough, Ikkaku had that wide, ornery grin on his face as he said, "Well...yeah. _Now_, I guess. It can't be helped, Yumichika, you're pretty enough for it anyway."

"Pretty?" Yumichika asked, rearing back with one eyebrow arched.

"_Beautiful_," Ikkaku amended, and when Yumichika scowled, the man added, "The most beautiful person I've ever seen."

Yumichika relented, softly assuring him, "Truly, Ikkaku, if you just loved me, that would be enough for me. The rest of it doesn't matter as much as that."

"Liar," Ikkaku said, grinning, an ornery twinkle in his eyes. "I've told you, it doesn't matter what's under your clothes, all that matters is that it's _you_. But if your vanity requires it, then yes, I want you this way, too. All ways I can have you, I want you."

"You've thought of it before now?" Yumichika fished, curious to know how long Ikkaku had hidden his own interest, but still feeling a little shy in the face of the man's intense gaze. Ikkaku never looked at anything without that intensity, without the feeling that he was assessing, figuring, seeking some kind of knowledge in the planes of an expression.

"I'm a man, aren't I? I only think with my head part of the time, Yumichika - everything else I do either doesn't require it, or the other head will suffice."

"Ikkaku! _Shameful_!" Yumichika scolded, blushing when Ikkaku reached for the ties on his own nightclothes. "Ikkaku...what if I'm bad at this?"

"How could it not be good, eh? You and I make everything work, don't we?" Ikkaku asked, managing the knot with frightening speed considering he was using only one hand. The other still pillowed his head, which was tipped down slightly to look into Yumichika's wide, violet eyes. "If not, we'll keep practicing until we're better."

"What if you don't like it with me after all?" Yumichika worried. "_Ah_! How awful! I can't stand being bad at anything!"

"Stop! _Stop_, I said!" Ikkaku ordered. "_Yumichika_! You aren't going to be bad at it, stop talking crazy!"

"Will you tell me if I am?"

"Of _course_!" Ikkaku said, brows drawn down.

Yumichika gasped, outraged. "_You'd tell me I'm terrible at something_? Ikkaku! How could you?!"

"Hey, _hey_! Tell you or don't tell you, light on one!" Ikkaku warned him. "_And stop wriggling around so damned much_!"

Yumichika's mouth closed abruptly and he blushed again, his violet eyes shimmering.

"Ah," Ikkaku sighed, giving his nightclothes a soft tug. "Don't be so worried. Remember when I taught you at the training grounds? Was I ever mean to you? I'd move mountains not to hurt you, Yumichika - and now that I know how much I _can_ hurt you, I'll be even more careful."

"Ikkaku..." Yumichika breathed, his heart hammering as Ikkaku's calloused palm slid up his bare chest and over his shoulder, sliding his light robe down.

"Smile for me," Ikkaku said, his hand smoothing Yumichika's shoulder and down his chest to settle on Yumichika's slim hip, which curved as if just to suit the shape of his rough palm. "Promise you'll always smile for me. I've seen enough of your tears to know that they still make me angry, especially if I'm the reason why."

Yumichika's smile widened and he laughed softly, flustered.

"There he is," Ikkaku said, grinning, pulling Yumichika more fully against him, his hand moving to cup the man's pale cheek. "There's my Yumichika..."

_My_ Yumichika - ah, how long he'd waited just to hear that!

Ikkaku kissed him again, shifting up, lifting Yumichika around the waist with one muscular arm to tug his nightclothes off with the other, leaving the slender Death God in just his white _fundoshi_. Dimly, Yumichika realized that Ikkaku's robe was gone, too, but that didn't seem to matter as much as it had before, not with Ikkaku's warm, strong body pressed to his, not with those powerful arms gathering him close.

Ikkaku turned, sliding Yumichika onto his back, coiled half over him, one warm, rough hand smoothing the tight skin of Yumichika's belly to drift over his _fundoshi_. Yumichika arched, moaning loudly, afraid that just that simple touch might be too much to bear.

"That's what I like to hear," Ikkaku purred, spreading his fingers to pull Yumichika's underclothes free. He tugged Yumichika back onto his side and breathlessly gasped, "Touch me."

Desire rapidly overcame his shyness - Ikkaku didn't care that Yumichika didn't know what he was doing, he didn't care that something might go wrong. He wanted Yumichika to touch him, to share the pleasure that Ikkaku had always shared with those women Yumichika had hated so jealously. And there was nothing that Yumichika could deny him.

It was even more keenly satisfying than his fretful wishes and dreams. He trailed his fingers over Ikkaku's responsive skin with relish, tracing the patterns of scars well known to him, finding the new one which ran from his shoulder all the way down to his groin. His gentle fingers brushed the firm, jutting heat of Ikkaku's ready body and the man moaned lowly in his throat, his kisses more urgent.

Yumichika drew a shaky breath, lifting his head to offer his throat to Ikkaku's sharp teeth and demanding mouth. His hesitant fingers slid slowly down the hot length of him to the ripe, heavy bulge of his sac. Just touching Ikkaku made him shiver with delight, reveling in the responsiveness of his flesh, awed by the way it pulsed in his hand when he trailed his fingers up to circle it.

Yumichika moaned, aching with desire, unintentionally tightening his grip when Ikkaku's caressing hand brushed over one taut nipple.

Ikkaku purred, coiling back a little to trail his hot mouth down Yumichika's chest, seeking one small, tight nipple with his lips.

"_Ikkaku_," Yumichika whispered, his name escaping in a gasp. Everything was too sharp, too new, too _needed_. Sharp teeth and a clever tongue showed him just how sensitive he truly was, leaving him panting, heated, and restless. Ikkaku's strong, warm hand closed over his wrist and eased his own hand away, making him ask, "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Ikkaku said, leaning up to kiss his mouth once, twice, and again until Yumichika almost forgot what he'd asked in the first place. "But I figure you have a lot of making up to do, Yumichika, eh? I'll take care of you, I said, remember?"

Yumichika panted, struck by the sight of Ikkaku there between his prettily spread legs, crouched like a muscular, pale beast with the moonlight catching the curves of his muscles and bringing silver light to his dark grey eyes.

"Ikkaku..." His entire body tightened with desire when the man loomed over him, rough hands exploring the contours of Yumichika's soft skin. Places that had never meant anything at all were suddenly unbearably full of nerves ready to explode at the slightest touch. It almost shamed him how ready he was, but then he saw the look of hungry absorption on Ikkaku's face and his shame evaporated, as it always had. Ikkaku delighted in every moan, every gasp, every needy tug of his fingers, chuckling whenever Yumichika told him, "I've waited all of these years, Ikkaku, you don't have to tease me!"

"After all the teasing you've given _me_?!" Ikkaku told him, but his smile took the bite out of his words. He grasped Yumichika's hips in his hard hands, then, and made a steady trail down his sternum to the ditch of his belly with lips, teeth, and tongue until Yumichika fearfully hissed, "What are you doing?!"

"What do you mean?" Ikkaku asked, the spill of his breath on Yumichika's straining sex making the slender Death God yelp in a panic.

"_Ikkaku! Don't do that_!" Yumichika cried, covering his face with his hands to hide his flaming cheeks. "People _do_ this?!"

"I don't know what other people do," Ikkaku told him, his tongue making maddening circles over the narrow planes of Yumichika's lower belly. "But _we're_ going to do it. Put your hands down."

"No!" Yumichika gasped, scandalized.

"Put your _hands down_, I said!" Ikkaku repeated, reaching up to grasp his wrists and pull his arms straight down. He pressed Yumichika's wrists into the soft bedding and told him, "Leave them. I don't like you hiding your face from me like that. I want to see you, Yumichika. I've spent long enough looking at a mask, so don't blame me for wanting to see you _now_."

Yumichika took a shallow, shaky breath, biting his lip as Ikkaku shifted back, sliding both muscular arms beneath Yumichika's round backside and grasping his slender wrists, warning again, "Leave them."

The first touch of Ikkaku's mouth on his ready body sent him perilously close to the edge. It was the merest, gentlest brush of his tongue, but it was quickly followed by Ikkaku's wet, heated mouth closing over his swollen tip.

He arched hard, gasping in shocked pleasure as Ikkaku suckled him, his wrists straining in Ikkaku's tight but gentle grip. He'd never imagined such a thing could exist, such an encompassing pleasure, such an intimate act. His body bucked on the soft bedding, his hips rocking, his breath coming out in heavy, ragged pants. He didn't have the time to feel shy, not with Ikkaku greedily working his sex as if nothing else in the world mattered but this.

"Ikkaku, wait," Yumichika moaned, on the panicked verge of orgasm, and even _he_ knew what that meant. "Wait! Stop! Ikkaku!"

Ikkaku didn't wait, didn't stop - his mouth drew harder, the pressure of his tongue unbearably delicious, working Yumichika's sensitive flesh until he couldn't hold it back anymore.

The coiling tension within him peaked and he came with a harsh, moaning sob, straining against Ikkaku's mouth, deafened by the pounding of his heart. It was fierce and aching, a pleasure that bordered on the fine line of pain, so sharp it bowed his back with its force. Stars burst behind his tightly closed lids as he writhed, the firmness of Ikkaku's grip on his delicate wrists a pleasure all its own, safety in a storm of new sensations.

Ikkaku made a low, satisfied noise deep in his throat, easing up, less demanding now but no less hungry. It wasn't until Yumichika subsided in a trembling heap of boneless, sweat-sheened limbs that Ikkaku let him go, swiping his wrist over his lips and grinning, thoroughly pleased with himself.

Yumichika lay there, panting, and when he could finally speak he managed, "Forgive me, Ikkaku, I..."

Ikkaku laughed, running one calloused hand up the underside of Yumichika's slightly bent leg, and told him, "As long as you waited for that, Yumichika, I hope you enjoyed it. Gods know I wouldn't have lasted so long in your place, eh?"

Yumichika blushed, but gathered himself enough to sit up, his legs drawing up against Ikkaku's hips as he twined his arms around the man's sturdy shoulders.

Ikkaku dipped his head to kiss him, hitching him up as he settled back, drawing Yumichika into his lap so that the strutted fullness of his own sex pressed insistently against Yumichika's lean, slick belly.

"I can't believe we just did that," Yumichika breathed against his lips, and when Ikkaku's tongue slid into his mouth, he gave it a soft, teasing suck.

"Keep that up, brat, and I'll start at that end instead," Ikkaku warned, thoroughly baffling him. But Yumichika didn't care - he was in the best hands and he knew it. All of his solitary walls were so much rubble around him, now; he was finally, blessedly, no longer alone.

"It's no wonder you do this so often," Yumichika said, running his hands up Ikkaku's rippled sides, enjoying the play of muscle beneath his fingertips. He wanted to touch Ikkaku all over, to explore him, to find all of the places on his body that Ikkaku had found on his own. Now that the immediate, anxious, and unstoppable first flush of desire was thoroughly satisfied, there was time to do just that.

Ikkaku grinned and rolled smoothly backwards, pulling Yumichika with him so that the slender man was left straddling his lean hips.

"Heh, I knew you liked it," he boasted, kneading Yumichika's slim thighs with his powerful hands. "Didn't I say I'd take care of you? Eh?"

"Then is it _my _turn to take care of _you_?" Yumichika asked, suddenly quite taken with the thought of reciprocation. He captured Ikkaku's hand in both of his own and kissed his scarred knuckles, nipping him gently whenever Ikkaku pressed a finger between his lips. The look of rapt fascination on Ikkaku's handsome face prompted him to softly suck, pure triumph filling him whenever Ikkaku's full sex pulsed heavily between his thighs.

"You damned brat," Ikkaku chuckled, ruefully slipping his finger free. "I have something else in mind, but I won't say no to that."

"Something else, is it?"

Yumichika arched over him, running his hands covetously over the hard swell of Ikkaku's broad chest, feeling those glittering grey eyes on him. He was so beautifully formed, so effortlessly lovely that even the scars seemed like the finishing touches of some brilliant sculptor. Skin tightened wherever his fingers wandered, a ripple that pulled the stark muscles of Ikkaku's belly taut and hardened the small pink nubs of his nipples. Yumichika couldn't resist gliding his fingertips over them, feeling the silky texture of Ikkaku's skin and the responsive throb of that hard sex rearing up against his own.

"So beautiful," he murmured, spanning the man's ribcage, running palms and fingers down the ripple of his ribs until his hands lay flattened just above his shallow navel.

"If you think so," Ikkaku said, shrugging a little. "I'm torn up and messy, but if you like me that way then I'm happy."

"I wouldn't change a thing," Yumichika breathed, shifting up onto his knees to loom over him on all fours. "But I hated seeing you in those bandages, Ikkaku. They weren't beautiful. Death isn't beautiful."

"They came off," Ikkaku reminded him, raising one large but delicate hand to brush his knuckles down Yumichika's body, from his sternum to his lower belly, creating a shiver that made him gasp with renewed desire. It was frightening to realize that he could be ready again so quickly, so soon - but as Ikkaku had said, he had a lot of making up to do, and his body was hungry for all it could handle. "Get into that box, Yumichika."

Bewildered but feeling too good to protest, Yumichika opened the small wooden box next to Ikkaku's futon. He'd never had the occasion to be nosy with it, figuring that Ikkaku didn't really keep any secrets of substance from him. Inside was nothing more than some spare coins, a pipe he sometimes smoked, a chipped _sake_ cup from their younger years, and a small corked bottle.

"Hand me that," Ikkaku said, expecting him to know what he meant.

Yumichika fished the bottle out, biting his lip against a moan whenever Ikkaku's hand cupped his bare sex and gave him a squeeze that turned his knees to water. All it took was a few gentle, expert strokes of Ikkaku's knowing hand and Yumichika was as ready as he'd been the first time.

"Ikkaku..."

"Hush," the man said, snagging the bottle from his nerveless fingers. "Let's figure this out quick, then we'll work on it again later."

Ikkaku's breath was quick and shallow, something that Yumichika noted with smug joy. Somehow in all of this strangeness, he'd managed to excite him, managed to make him _want_ this as much as Yumichika did.

Ikkaku released him long enough to pop the cork on that vial and spill slippery oil all over his hands before tossing the vial away.

"Ikkaku, I..."

"Eh?" With a look of utterly absorbed concentration, Ikkaku ran a slick hand over Yumichika's hard length in a slow, squeezing stroke.

Yumichika uttered a hoarse cry, arching into that touch, shuddering hard.

"Keep it up and I won't even get there," Ikkaku warned, his other hand sliding over his own straining length. Yumichika sobbed again and Ikkaku cursed, his hands hurriedly shifting Yumichika back over his hips. He steadied his sex and urged Yumichika down, sweat dotting his brow.

The first push of his swollen crown brought a flush of startled fear to Yumichika's cheeks.

"Ikkaku, you can't possibly - " He cut off on a gasp, because Ikkaku certainly _did_ intend to be exactly where he was, as a restrained arch of his hips proved, sliding a fraction of his slick sex past the tight ring of Yumichika's body. Yumichika's hands clenched on the corded muscles of his shoulders and he tensed, shocked and utterly bewildered.

"Relax, damnit!" Ikkaku told him, both hands moving to Yumichika's enticing backside to urge him downward. "Come here!"

He lunged up to suck on Yumichika's open mouth, drawing the other man down with him when he sank so that Yumichika was lying full across his heated body.

"That's better," Ikkaku breathed, spreading his legs wide, his knees bending up to give him leverage on the soft futon. He fed another slick inch deeper, causing a hot flush to spread through Yumichika's groin. Yumichika moaned, twitching back just a little, helpless to deny it.

"See?" Ikkaku gloated, grinning at him and kissing him again, a rough plunge of his tongue waking Yumichika's own. "Relax, I don't want to hurt you, Yumichika. You're so tight..."

A deft thrust had him in as deeply as he could go, fat and pulsing inside of Yumichika's squeezing body, filling him in a way that felt oddly pleasurable. Ikkaku's deep groan made him tighten, which brought a hard contraction to the rigid heat inside of him.

Ikkaku wedged a hand between them and curled it around Yumichika's hard length, his thumb rubbing relentlessly over the sensitive skin just below the head until the slender man started to wriggle and rock, flexing around the stiff sex inside of him.

"That's it, that's it," Ikkaku urged, thrusting shallowly then with greater urgency, plunging deeper and deeper with every thrust. His strong back arched as he rocked in rhythm with Yumichika, trading frantic kisses and harsh breaths. Yumichika found himself moaning Ikkaku's name over and over, a chant that melded into the pleasure he felt, into the electric tingle of his skin and the overwhelming, amazing knowledge that the man he loved so much and for so long was as closely connected to him as he ever could be.

Ikkaku cursed softly, his rough hand pressed to Yumichika's back, his knees spreading, everything else forgotten in the heat of what they shared. His lean hips lifted, snapping up with the force of his strong back behind them, lunging his swollen length into Yumichika's greedy, squeezing body.

He lifted his free hand and pressed it over Yumichika's mouth, stifling his cries with a softly hissed, "Keep it up and I'll go, brat!"

In answer, Yumichika closed his eyes, pushed forcefully down against him when Ikkaku thrust up, and gave that muffling palm a spirited bite.

"_Damn it_!"

Yumichika loosed one last breathless, excited cry and pulled taut in a crashing explosion of pleasure. It was so overpowering that he barely registered Ikkaku frantically pulsing against him, caught in the throes of his own climax. His body contracted hard, spilling sticky semen onto Ikkaku's tight belly, then into Ikkaku's hand when the man roughly milked him, spinning him into another convulsion of pleasure. He surged and writhed until there was nothing left to give, nothing more left to feel, no further plateau to hit; then he slumped onto Ikkaku, his hands fisted on the man's shoulders while he panted into his neck.

Slowly, he registered the quick, steady pounding of Ikkaku's heart, the unsteady heave of his broad chest, the soft caving of his belly as he panted. A fine sheen of sweat had broken out on his pale skin, warm and slick. In a ragged, rough voice he said, "Well, _that_ was one hell of a first time."

Yumichika smiled, feeling languorous and relaxed in the afterglow. Ikkaku was still inside of him, but not quite as hard, not quite as insistent, and sheathed in slickness of his own making.

He looked up when Ikkaku urged him and found the man's grey eyes searching him, seeking confirmation. "You okay, Yumichika?"

"Better than okay," he sighed, wriggling a little, pleased by the way Ikkaku's breath caught for a moment. "You?"

Ikkaku grinned, that beloved, fierce grin of his, and told him, "I should have known it'd be like this between us, brat." He shifted a little then, wincing, and growled, "I think I busted my balls..."

"Oh dear," Yumichika said, alarmed by that notion. He pushed himself up a bit to look down into Ikkaku's eyes, but the man was just grinning lazily, looking absolutely blissful and thoroughly pleased with himself. "Was that what you thought it'd be?"

Ikkaku shrugged, his lethargy quickly sliding into the desire for a nap. "I didn't think _anything_, Yumichika. Don't be worried, brat, I've never had it so good."

"Then...then I wasn't bad?"

Those grey eyes slit open into an assessing glare and Ikkaku roughly told him, "Stop _worrying_, I said! If I told you it's the best I've had, it'd only make you unbearable!"

Yumichika smirked, pleased, unresisting when Ikkaku kissed him again, still thrilled by the idea that he _could_ kiss him, _could_ touch him. He took full advantage of it, caressing every dip and turn of muscle, tracing the strong cords of Ikkaku's throat with lips and tongue. He wanted to know him utterly, and lingered over those places that Ikkaku urged him to explore. For his part, Ikkaku lay beneath him like a lithe, purring cat, more than happy to let Yumichika do as he pleased, touch him as he pleased.

"Ikkaku, are you..." Yumichika paused in his absorbed exploration; he could have sworn he felt the man's flesh swelling again, and before Ikkaku could answer him, he was positive it was.

Ikkaku grinned and reminded him, "We'll work on it again later, I said. It's later."

Yumichika uttered a breathless laugh that quickly changed to a throaty moan whenever Ikkaku gripped his hips, urging him to move. It was fast and rough that time, but Yumichika was always in control, a concession he knew that Ikkaku made for his sake out of respect for his inexperience.

"More," he breathlessly panted, clutching Ikkaku's shoulders, riding him with an urgency that only fed on itself. "More! _Closer_!"

Ikkaku gripped him tightly, shifting up, rolling Yumichika onto his back without missing a beat. His hips worked with such force that Yumichika knew he'd wake with bruises, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was this, was Ikkaku lunging over him in the heat of passion, was this pleasure that sewed them together into a knot of twined, writhing flesh and meshed mouths until Yumichika thought he would die of it, and happily. It brought a climax almost as painful as it was pleasurable, and that, too, felt just as it should be.

"Close enough for you, brat?" Ikkaku panted, still shuddering atop him, his heavy, muscular body half-slumped over him.

"Not nearly close enough," Yumichika answered, trying to catch his breath, cupping Ikkaku's cheek in his palm just to feel the heat of him, just to relish the fingers of sweat that trailed down his pale face.

"If I get any closer, Yumichika," Ikkaku purred. "I'm liable to come _out _of your mouth instead of in it."

He couldn't help but laugh, properly scandalized but well-used to Ikkaku's sense of humor by now.

"In it, hm?" he mused, biting his lower lip, his expression unintentionally coy. "Not after where you've been. Not until you've had a bath, anyway."

Ikkaku just grinned and kissed him, easing out with a groan and dropping to Yumichika's side in a satisfied heap of long limbs and enviable grace.

"Ah, you sure are something, Yumichika," he sighed, stretching, the bedding all mussed beneath them.

Yumichika shifted over, realizing that he was almost in the floor thanks to their vigorous exertions. Ikkaku's stamina and appetite were no secret from him, but being a party to them brought a whole new meaning to the word _energetic_.

"Goodness, this is almost like training," he sighed, rolling onto his belly, tired but euphoric. Every inch of him sang with the aftershocks of pleasure, saturated in it in ways even his feverish imagination was surprised by.

"I guess it _is_ training," Ikkaku chuckled, turning his head to look over at him. "For us, anyway."

He turned a little onto his side, reaching out to touch Yumichika's back with one powerful, gentle hand, the amusement in his grey eyes replaced by something strangely like regret. It made Yumichika wonder if he'd done something wrong, but then he realized what Ikkaku's warm fingers were seeking out - those awful, ugly scars.

"Ah, Yumichika, I still get so angry when I see these," he murmured, lightly tracing the marks an embittered old man had once left on a rebellious young prince named Kanesuke. "No matter how long it's been, whenever I see these, all I can remember is how fragile you seemed whenever I first saw them. I wanted to take care of you from that point on. I never wanted you to be hurt like that ever again."

"It was a long time ago," Yumichika softly reminded him, blinking back the tears that Ikkaku's gentle words evoked. "It doesn't feel real sometimes."

"Heh, believe me, brat, it was real," Ikkaku said, moving to settle between Yumichika's spread legs. Surprisingly, he started rubbing Yumichika's back, something that took on a different light now that they'd done what they had.

"Ikkaku."

"Eh?"

"You were wrong. I'm not begging you to stop," Yumichika softly teased. "I thought you didn't do this?"

"We're hitting a lot of firsts tonight," Ikkaku said, chuckling. After a moment, though, he admitted, "I couldn't before, Yumichika. Sorry. I didn't think you'd want me to anyway. You've always been so protective of your pain, and these marks hurt you the deepest."

"Not anymore, Ikkaku," Yumichika told him, relaxing under his touch. He really was quite good, which brought the unsettling realization that Ikkaku had done this with one of his various women. It bothered Yumichika to think of it, to know that everything they'd done tonight, Ikkaku had already done with someone else. "I'm not that little boy anymore."

"Hey," Ikkaku softly said, reverently working Yumichika's back, tracing those old scars. There was no mistaking the teasing tone of his voice whenever he added, "You're not a girl."

Yumichika smiled, remembering Ikkaku as he'd been at the time of their first, fateful meeting - scowling and fierce, with one hand on his hip and the other balancing that sword over his shoulder, saying those exact words to him when they'd both been so terribly, frighteningly _young_.

"Of course I'm not," Yumichika murmured, turning a little to smile back at him. "How rude."

"'Why would you ever think such a thing?'" Ikkaku finished for him, those tracing fingers lingering at Yumichika's sides, measuring the slightness of his lower back. "You were something else, Yumichika. You still are."

"Likewise, Madarame," Yumichika whispered, stretching languorously beneath his touch.

"Hey, Yumichika," Ikkaku purred, leaning over him to trace those scars with kisses. "When did you first know?"

Yumichika suppressed a smile, surprised that Ikkaku would be curious. Then again, Ikkaku had always been firmly certain of everything except where Yumichika was concerned, and it warmed him to know the reason why.

"Do you remember when I ran away from the Open Rose?" Yumichika asked, and got a soft growl in response. "When you were fighting those Stealth Force men, I realized it then. I'd _felt_ it for a very long time, but it wasn't until then that I knew what it was."

"_That_ long?" Ikkaku asked, lifting his head in surprise. He laughed, then, that raspy and deep laugh that Yumichika loved. "Hah, well, I can't say I hadn't thought of it before then, anyway; you played the part so well, it was easy to forget you _weren't_ a girl."

Yumichika felt a blush envelop him from head to toes when Ikkaku said that. In a breathless rush, he asked, "You mean you'd thought of me that way at the Open Rose?"

"The other head will _suffice_, I said, Yumichika!" Ikkaku reminded him, moving further down to kiss the base of Yumichika's spine, both warm hands spreading over Yumichika's hips. "You'd look at me with those big eyes of yours and poke your nose in the air like that! HAH! Am I a man? Eh? How could I _not_ want to see if I could thaw you a little, brat?!"

So it _had_ been a wooing, of sorts, done in genuine love and a desire to please. And even though all of those little gifts had long-since disintegrated into dust, just knowing the intent behind them was enough to warm him through and through.

"And did I thaw to your satisfaction?" Yumichika asked, angling a look over his shoulder at Ikkaku, who gave him a fierce, wide grin.

"That's the thing about you, Yumichika," the man said, stretching up on both arms to kiss Yumichika's shoulder, a sure push of his hips sliding him easily into Yumichika's slippery body. "There's always something more, no matter how well I know you. You're the only kind of puzzle I like."

It wasn't the last time, but it left them unhurried in the aftermath, mutually curious. Ikkaku was incredibly sensitive, and patient enough to let Yumichika discover it on his own. Despite soft, stifled laughter and their habit of teasing, they managed to work it out between them, just like Ikkaku had said.

Eventually, though, the lateness of the night and their exertions took their toll, and Yumichika curled up against Ikkaku's side, almost too tired to sleep. He ran a playful, reverent finger down Ikkaku's thigh, enjoying the way his skin tightened beneath the touch and the way his sex quivered just a little.

"Knock that off before I hit you," the man tiredly warned, slitting one grey eye. "You've had enough for now, haven't you?"

"It's not that," Yumichika said, smirking at him. "I just like looking at you."

Ikkaku actually blushed, which made Yumichika smile a little. "_Why_? I look just like _you_! It isn't like you haven't seen a naked man before, Yumichika, eh?!"

"Not _just_ like me," Yumichika corrected him, snuggling next to him, reveling in the feel of his own bare skin pressed to Ikkaku's. "You're..._bigger_. I'm not sure I'm okay with that."

"Eh? Of _course_ I'm bigger!" Ikkaku flared, glaring at him. "_I'm_ bigger than _you_! You're proportionate, Yumichika, stop talking nonsense!"

He slid his large, calloused hand down Yumichika's arm and circled his wrist, holding it up to point out, "See? Look how small you are compared to me! You barely clear clear my chin!"

"Still, isn't it shameful?" Yumichika wondered, suddenly worried that he was somehow lacking in his endowments. He didn't want to be unacceptable, or pitiably small...

"_Shut up_, Yumichika!" Ikkaku told him, shaking his wrist just a little. "What a stupid conversation! Listen to me, I mean it!"

He rolled Yumichika to face him and cupped his jaw, forcing those violet eyes up to his.

"The only flaw you've ever had is thinking that you're not perfect," Ikkaku roughly told him. "Always so worried that you're not as good as those around you when really you're so much better. Don't you dare tell me this body isn't perfect when everything I see tells me that it _is_! I won't have anyone say a word against you, Yumichika, and that includes _you_."

Yumichika blushed, flattered and flustered by that unexpected but heartfelt response.

"Smaller, _heh_!" Ikkaku said, disdainful of such a comparison. "When I've got so much height and weight on you, you want to worry about _that_! What a stupid thing to say!"

Yumichika snuggled closer to him, pressing against the hard muscle of his long body. Every inch of him was lean, compact muscle, corded and strong without a bit of fat on him. Yumichika had always keenly admired Ikkaku's build, which was heavier than his own though still slim, and had a raw grace that other builds seemed to lack. He thought it matched his own petite, limber beauty perfectly, and now he knew he'd been right.

Ikkaku pulled him closely against his side, his arm beneath Yumichika's slender body, his calloused hand resting on Yumichika's shoulder.

"Remember the first time we slept together?" Yumichika asked, tucking his hand up beneath his chin.

"Yeah, it was a few hours ago," Ikkaku lowly said, snorting softly. "I'm not _that_ forgetful."

"No, I mean just _slept_," Yumichika laughed, drawing his knee up to cross over Ikkaku's corded thigh. "It was the first night we met."

"You used me as a mattress," Ikkaku said, grinning sleepily.

"It was your idea," Yumichika said, pleased that he remembered.

"You were complaining, I was tired of listening to it," Ikkaku said, defending himself. After an indulgent smile, he admitted, "It wasn't _all_ your fault. You looked so sad and lost, how could I tell you no? After everything you'd already gone through, letting you sleep on me seemed a pretty easy way to give you a little comfort."

Yumichika smiled, sliding his hand over to rest on Ikkaku's chest where his heart beat steadily beneath.

"You know...I kept complaining after that so you'd always sleep next to me," Yumichika admitted, feeling safe enough to confess.

"I figured," Ikkaku said, his voice soft with tiredness. "Anyways, if you hadn't complained, I'd have found a reason to get you to. You were as strong for me as I was for you, Yumichika. It's how we've gotten by for so long, by being strong for each other."

Yumichika smiled, feeling warm and content, and well, well loved.

"Hey, Yumichika."

"Hm?"

"Will you grow your hair out now?" Ikkaku asked, idly running his fingers through the hair in question, letting it fall from his grip like a river of soft, black silk.

Yumichika laughed softly, saying, "I knew you didn't like it short. Maybe, Ikkaku. Maybe I'll do that for you, if that's what you want."

"Stupid," Ikkaku called him, giving a lock of his hair a playful tug. "I _have_ everything I want, but it's really something, Yumichika, that hair of yours."

Yumichika recalled how unhappy Ikkaku had been the day they'd been enrolled in the Academy, how he'd been ready to knock heads together over Yumichika's cut hair. He'd mentioned it enough over the years that Yumichika knew it truly meant something to him, and that was all he _needed_ to know.

"I will, Ikkaku," he promised, slipping quickly towards sleep, warm and content as he was. "Don't you know by now? Anything you want, I'll do."

"Then go to sleep, brat," Ikkaku teased him, squeezing him close. "And never sleep anywhere else but right here next to me, where you belong."

And for the first time in his long, long life, Yumichika made a promise that he could keep with a light, happy heart.


End file.
